Crossing the line
by AimeeMcGee
Summary: The murderer Simon Prescott kills Marines, and the NCIS team will do anything in order to make it stop. Tim-centered ! - Beware of some strong language - Disclaimer : I do not own NCIS. The characters belong to D.P.B, and I make no money off this. Now complete.
1. The arrest

— Simon Prescott, NCIS ! Gibbs shouted as he walked in the man's direction. _Hands up !_ he immediately added, deeply staring at him.

— No worries…the man smiled with a smoky voice and didn't move from his chair, focusing, in turn, on each agents. I do not intend anyhow to contest my arrest…

— That would be the last straw…! Tony bitterly chuckled, approaching as well.

— _McGee ?_

— On him, boss, he answered, gun on Prescott, his neck slightly tensing under a spasm.

— _Ziva ?_

— Right here, she deviously smiled, feeling a personal pleasure to hold her gun next to the man's head.

The four agents stood still in the end for a dozen of seconds, forming a perfect, temporary circle around the new accused, until Gibbs finally quickly shook his head, inviting Tony to move closer. Tony took out his pair of handcuffs and begun telling Simon about his rights, pulling his arms behind his back.

— _Yeah, yeah…_ Prescott groaned, I already know all that shit !

— Oh, really ? Tony forced a smile, 'cause I would be glad to send you directly to jail, if you don't mind anymore about the big trial thing !

Gibbs discreetly grinned at the comment and nodded at his two other agents, who lowered their guns at the signal...  
Ziva relaxed a bit and walked to him, taking a despising look at the man waiting next to Tony before speaking.

— Boss, she said, I have some new information about Pres…

 _— Holy shit_ , it's good to be done, I'm in Hell, down here !

Tony immediately got ready to tighten his grip around the man, and both Gibbs and Ziva reflexively wrapped their hands again around their gun…until they saw who was really talking.

— _Uh…_ Tony froze, unexpectedly looking for his words.

Jethro watched Tim with crazy facial features, his agent getting rid of his bulletproof jacket, sweat on his forehead.

— McGee, are you alright ? Ziva neutrally asked.

But Gibbs only walked in his agent's direction, not minding her question at all, visibly annoyed by such a public demonstration.

— McGee, what the hell are you doing ! he lowly groaned.

Tim only chuckled and slowly stared at him, revealing an amused facial expression Jethro would have been very glad to punch.

— Funny thing that…Tim stopped and kept smiling.

— _What_ , Gibbs commented. What is _so_ funny, McGee ?

— _This_ , Tim chuckled again, you, talking about Hell...

Gibbs heavily breathed out, but tried keeping calm the best way he could, reluctantly listening to what would be next…

— That's exactly what I said : it's hot like Hell in here ! Tim almost laughed.

Simon Prescott suddenly started laughing as well, glancing at the two men.

— Oh, I would love to see what will be next…

— _Yeah_ , the only thing you're gonna see is the box we're gonna put you in ! Tony forced the man to stand up, trying to get rid of the thought of his teammate's previous insane reaction.

— Put on that jacket, McGee, Gibbs seriously said. _And that's an order !_

— But, boss…his agent retorted, revealing a bit of the plaintive Tim they were sometimes used to know.

— I said _now !_ he insisted, Tony beginning to walk to the exit, in that large empty space, still holding his prisoner closer.

— Oh, _come on_ , boss ! Tim unexpectedly continued. Look at him, he's not gonna go anywhere, now, is he, I can take it off ! This thing must weigh about ten kilos, for God's sake !

Tim wiped away the additional drops on his forehead, his jacket still waiting next to his feet.  
Gibbs lowered both eyebrows and furiously stared at him for a minute…before moving away.

— Dinozzo, he shouted, _faster !_ Ziva, he added, go with him !

Ziva approached Prescott without a word and only gave him another despising look, the man glancing at her legs.

— _Hey !_ he complained. Less violence, man. I'm trying to talk to your beautiful colleague…

— That's what you call 'talking' ? Tony pushed him forward.

— One step at the time…Simon grinned. Conversation is secondary...

— _Why don't you shut up_ , _Prescott_ , Ziva finally commented, _or I blind your eyes and feed the fishes with them..._

Gibbs heard the voices getting further as he stared a last time at the big empty space, still not believing his ears concerning what had just happened.  
But after all, maybe it was only a dream...

— _McGee !_ he interrupted his own thoughts and yelled without looking back. If you're not in the car in two minutes, I let you come back to NCIS by walk !

Gibbs tried to get rid of the warm anger around his cheeks. He was so upset...  
Yes, now he did not mind anymore being judged by any kind of criminals. Tim had crossed the line more than once, therefore he would receive the treatment he truly deserved, _witnesses included_ if necessary.

— You and me, he continued, we're gonna have to ta…

— Oh, why don't you shut the fuck up, for once, Jethro !

The unbelievable sentence suddenly resonated like a curse in the air, Tony and Ziva immediately stopping near the exit, everyone, even Gibbs, ready for a heart attack.  
 _He couldn't have walked faster..._ Yes, if Gibbs could have had propellers behind his shoes, it would have been now…  
...Tony blamed himself for such a stupid thought, but he didn't dare speaking, nor even ask for any head slap…  
Yeah, silent comparisons were still better than this.

— What did you just say, McGee ? Gibbs finally slowly asked, fire in his eyes.

— _I…_ I don't remember, Tim strangely answered.

— _Say it again_ , McGee, whether or not you decide doing it, you'll be fired anyway !

The current conversation was pretty hard to hear from their silent spot, but Ziva finally decided to act, impatient and frustrated, leaving both Tony and the disgusting smile of the man where they were.  
Something was definitely wrong, she could _feel_ it.

— _Gibbs !_ she said as she ran next to him, an idea in mind.

— _Wait_ , Ziva, he held a hand next to her. McGee has something to remember before he gets fired.

— _Fired ?_ she asked in shock.

— _I..._ I remember, boss, Tim shyly spoke in the end, breaking the previous heavy silence.

— We're listening, Gibbs angrily said, ready to explode.

— _My mum…_

— Your mum ? Ziva questioned him.

— She used to bring me to school to feed the animals, he now smiled incoherently, suddenly blinking more than necessary.

— _McGee, what are you…_

— _Gibbs_ , Ziva insisted, grabbing his arm. That's what I thought !

— What, Ziva ? he turned impatient.

— Don't you see, Gibbs ? I think he's got fever.

Tim didn't seem to be listening and only strangely stared at the walls, feeling lost and dizzy.

— _Elephants…_ they're very dangerous, you know… Oh God...it's so hot in here ! he now tried to unbutton his shirt, Ziva putting a palm on his forehead.

— McGee, sit down, she immediately ordered, walking near him.

— _What is going on !_ Jethro gravely asked from behind, not really knowing who he was really talking to, still mad, and not mad, at once...

— I think it's like with the other victims, Ziva calmly continued, he must have poisoned McGee as well.

Now Gibbs was really alarmed... Indeed, if he'd always thought he was ready to face any kind of situation, he knew now he had been wrong…  
He heavily breathed in and bent down to the floor, observing, helpless, his agent slowly leaving reality.  
In the meantime, Ziva dialed 911 on her phone, and begun talking to the voice while her boss was desperately trying to keep Tim awake.

— Don't touch me, Agent Gibbs, he dizzily said, I don't want Dr Stanberg to run away again…

— That was another case, McGee, now we've just arrested Simon Prescott, _remember ?_

— What a strange name for… he reacted. _Oh_ , why do I feel so hot outside, but…

— _But what_ , McGee ? Gibbs asked, sensing his agent was now struggling with breathing.

— I'm a bit cold inside, Tim smiled. It's...you know, like the sea, during night time, when…

He stopped for another handful of seconds...  
Heartbeats… _How painful._

...Ziva hang up the phone after some time, silently explaining Gibbs that an ambulance was coming, glancing at the still sweaty agent on the floor.

— How stupid we were…he was just saving time ! he suddenly whispered.

Jethro ordered her to stay with Tim and started running in Tony and Simon's direction. Tony seemed ready to open his mouth when he saw him coming, now seriously wondering what could be going on out there, but Gibbs punched Prescott in the face and didn't answer any questions, visibly decided to be the only one asking.

— _What did you do to him !_ he yelled, Tony jumping as he heard him shout.

— Well…looks like little Timmy's ready for Heaven…the man slowly said and smiled, blood coming out of his nose.

— _What's the antidote !_ Gibbs continued, trying not to kill the murderer in front of him.

— They'll probably be too late anyway…the man grinned and stared at him, delighted as hell. And now…he deviously added, I will not say another word without the presence of my lawyer...

— You stayed here to watch the show ! Jethro grabbed the opposite collar and felt the pressure getting bigger than ever, raising a second fist in the air, but Ziva's voice interrupted his violent action, and he directly knew what it meant.

— _I'm…cold, now_ , weird Tim reflexively smiled, but this… _this is a…_ great place to have fun…

Ziva heard the small nervous chuckle and watched him blink a few more times, Gibbs finally joining them onto the floor, with bloody knuckles.

— _McGee…_ hold on, he desperately sighed and pronounced, not really knowing what else to tell him.

But Ziva was already pulling both her sleeves up, facing Tim's weak chest.

— He's out, boss, she neutrally said, bending forward...

 _And she started massaging…_


	2. One month before

Gibbs entered the bullpen with his so used cup of coffee between hands, walking to his desk at a furious pace.

— _Everyone !_ he shouted, watching all the NCIS members interrupting their work or chats, carefully listening to him. _Simon Prescott_ , he grabbed a picture between fingers and raised it in the air, aka the new 'Navy Poisoner', has been seen around NCIS yesterday night ! You all have to be tested by the end of the day...and when it's done, I want each of you to go back to work and track that man down !

Tony rubbed his neck and took a desperate look at his teammates, wondering if he would be able to sleep tonight…

— Thinking of your next movie quote, Tony ? Ziva teased him once Gibbs just finished speaking.

— Quote, no, he answered, but movie, _yes_.

— Which is…? Tim sighed.

— _McGee !  
_

— Come on, Ziva, for once it's just a title ! At least, we won't endure another day the monologue of The Joker…

— _The Young Poisoner's handbook_ , Tony smiled and interrupted them. Graham, fourteen, dreams of…

— _Dinozzo !_

— Yes, boss ? he sat up onto his seat.

— Didn't you hear what I said ! Go immediately down and get tested ! Tony slightly jumped at the unwanted thought and tried not to look too stupid.

— When you say 'tested'…he nervously questioned him, do you mean, like 'blood' tested ?

Gibbs, furrowing his brows was enough to scare him to death, but he desperately noticed as well Ziva's discreet amused face in the corner of the bullpen, clearly knowing he would soon regret to have spoken.

— _You know…_ he kept smiling anyway, that…Prescott, he only poisons Marines, right, _I…_ I mean, I don't know why he would try to kill anyone of us, especially…

Tony felt the head slap and jumped, this time, under the hit.

— _Go get tested_ , Dinozzo, Gibbs seriously ordered before reaching his desk again. And you're first !

His agent didn't add a word and stood up like a man ready for an execution, deeply praying for a miracle.

— Come on, Tony…Ziva deviously whispered when her teammate approached her desk. You're not gonna play the kid like last time, are you…

That was it. Tony felt the anger warm up his cheeks and the need to instantly retort.

— You know what ? I hope you get sick, he bitterly said, brusquely walking away. And in case you were wondering, he stopped before heading to the elevator, that's not a movie quote !  
— — — — — — — — — —

...Ziva joined the bullpen later that day, Ducky gravely walking by her side.

— Duck ? Gibbs asked. Everything alright ?

— Well, Jethro, he announced, Ziva…

— _I can tell him, Ducky_ , she revealed a brave face, today so much more than usual.

Tony stopped moaning about his previous blood test and raised a head in the voices' direction, curious and a bit worried.

— What's going on ? he finally asked.

— Go home and tell him you love him, Gibbs suddenly neutrally advised her, although it seemed obvious that he was feeling desperate inside.

Tony stared at him with some kind of apprehension...Gibbs had certainly understood something. He always did.

— _Hey_ , he now felt the twist in his stomach, what…

But Tim approached the bullpen in turn, stopping nervously when he noticed the group of people already here.

— _Hey, I…_ I heard what happened. _I…_ Oh, Ziva, I'm…so sorry…

— Hey, what are you talking about…! Tony turned impatient, trying to figure out the unexplained trouble going on.

But someone else was already coming, confirming the seriousness of the problem.

— _Ziva…_ a crying voice suddenly joined the unexpected NCIS frame, Abby holding both arms in front of her, whining the way she was usually doing when _these kind of things_ happened, or when a puppy was missing...

— It's okay, Abby, she forced a smile, it's not like if I was about to die now…

— Yes, but…Abby kept crying.

— _Abby, Abby…_ Ducky put a friendly hand on her shoulder, if there hadn't been that blood test, she might have never known it in time.

— I know…she hugged the ME with a noticeable strength, Tony now feeling his heart ready to stop.

— _What…_ he swallowed hardly, definitely not finding the rest of his words, fearing as well the answer he might get in return…

That couldn't be possible, not after such a normal morning… He tried not to overthink about it.

…And as he waited from his desk for some logical informations, part of the NCIS team finally watched him in silence for a heavy minute, Ziva trying to keep her ego up, Gibbs' eyes hiding their worries, as usual…  
…until they all burst out laughing.

— _Come on, guys !_ someone exhaled first with disappointment. If we could have done it a _little_ longer, it would have been so much bet…

— We do not have that kind of time, Abbs, Gibbs briefly smiled, focusing again on some work behind his desk, as if nothing had happened.

— _Wh…_ Tony tried to speak for the umpteenth time, no one seeming, and this, from the beginning, to be listening to _any_ of his reactions.

— Good job with the tears, by the way, Abby, Tim congratulated her, Ducky approving with a nod before starting leaving with her.

— _I told you guys it would work !_ she pointed a finger at the invisible and smiled before vanishing, happy like a child.

Tony kept his mouth wide open but didn't try saying anything else, only processing the previous strange informations lot, waiting for some new element to take place, a thing that could maybe explain what had just been going on…  
He raised both arms in the air, waiting for…something.

— _What_ , Tony ? Tim funnily asked. Too many 'Heys' ?

— ...You guys just decided to do the show ? he finally let it out, chuckling in shock, with no real fun.

Gibbs discreetly smiled while Ziva and Tim sat down again, and Tony gave a special strange look at his boss, wondering how on earth this could have happened.

— I got a _little_ offended by what you told me earlier, Ziva deviously explained the previous scene to Tony from her spot, grabbing a pen in order to take some new notes. I guess I'm just too sensitive, she ironically grinned.

— …Are you kidding me ? he suddenly turned upset. When _I_ plan something, and God is my witness that _I_ am the funny one, I'm lucky if I can only get McFun to recite a line…! And boss, he continued, you never make jokes, nor ever accept to be part of them ! _I mean…_ he added when both Gibbs' eyes deeply begun to stare at him, you're usually…busy.

— Well, Gibbs neutrally smiled and kept working, I guess I was free.

Tim and Ziva watched Tony's face turn red and frustrated, glancing at each other with a silent feeling of victory.  
— — — — — — — — — —

— _Hey, boss..._ Tony said late in the evening, a bit nervous. Nice joke.

Lights were now getting dim in the bullpen, and Tony could sense that it was the moment of the night when there was nothing really interesting to say.  
Yes, that was basically the time when everyone was simply ready to kill in order to get some sleep, but too tired to follow their guts.

— Long day, uh ? Gibbs said.

— _Yeah..._ Tony chuckled and rubbed his neck.

Gibbs remained silent and focused on his computer again, glasses covering his usual tired eyes, both hands reluctantly clicking on some files...

— Where's McGeek ?

— In Abbs' lab, Gibbs answered without a look, secretly wanting to destroy all that stupid technology. _Tony_ , he finally looked away from it, staring at his agent.

Tony raised his head and watched Jethro talk to him, that same twist in his stomach.

— It was a joke, Dinozzo, snap out of it.

— I know, he forced a smile, his low voice still, somehow, resonating in the empty space.

— We wouldn't have pushed you away from this kind of conversation.

— I know, Tony smiled again. _It's just..._ he hesitated, taking a look at the Simon Prescott's picture on the _Wanted_ wall. For a second, I got very worried that she could be... I'd never accept it, boss.

— Cherish the ones who're here, Dinozzo, Gibbs calmly added. Once they disappear, they never come back.

Tony nodded and kept clicking as well on different files of his computer, exhausted as hell but too tired to complain, wondering if there was enough coffee in this world to keep him awake...  
Ziva, who'd just left the MTAC, waited a minute before coming down. She took a discreet look a Tony from her higher spot and heavily sighed, remembering with mixed feelings what had just been told... She quickly smiled and finally went down the stairs when she thought she had waited enough.


	3. Three weeks ago

— I guess we have got our man, Ducky nodded as he saw Gibbs enter his working area, getting rid of his pair of medical gloves.

— Him again ?

— Fingerprints do not lie, the ME smiled, approaching Jethro.

Gibbs sighed and took a look at the dead man on the silver table, wondering how many others would be lying on it in the future. It had almost become a habit, and that wasn't something he was really proud to think of.

— We didn't know it was him at the beginning, right ? he asked.

— Indeed, we did not, Jethro. But our man is very smart, as soon as he realized we had found his fingerprints…

— Thanks to the Wanted notices, you mean ?

— Yes, Jethro, Ducky continued. I'm still working on his psychological profile, but what is interesting about our man is that he is not intending to minimize his actions by keeping on hiding his future murders. He doesn't think yet about the possibility of being caught, all in all, what I am saying is…

—…once he knew we were looking for him, he didn't try being careful anymore.

Gibbs briefly stared at the dead man's wounds, thinking.

— He has a goal.

— _Uh, uh…_ Ducky briefly nodded. Nothing visible in the blood result, as usual, Jethro, he continued. But I did notice some violence again on the body. Therefore, in my humble opinion, there are two possibilities : free pain inflicted to our men, or he got the different answers he might have been looking for and finally killed them. Once again, he sighed, I have no proof if there was any trace of any drug, so it could have been nothing, or so many possibilities at once…

He walked in his desk's direction and greeted on his way Mr Palmer who had just entered the room, both Jethro and Jimmy briefly greeting each other too.

— That is making a lot of people, Jethro…Ducky seemed to turn a bit worried, why I am wondering more and more if our man is not desperately looking for an answer. Maybe about someone in particular ?

— What do you mean, Dr Mallard ? Jimmy asked, Gibbs listening as well.

— Well, I do believe it must be some kind of 'revenge story', that would certainly not be the first time, but if it was a general hatred against Marines, why not simply burn a few places with everyone inside ? Oh, please do apologize this previous caricature of life, but _really_ , Jethro, _why_ minding killing a man here and there, if you do not even seem to be related to anyone of them ?

— He _is_ looking for answers, Gibbs neutrally commented before leaving.

— You are the expert, Ducky gently smiled.

— And what about possibilities like truth serum, Dr Mallard ? Jimmy dared interrupting, Gibbs suddenly stopping in order to know more. I know it still is quite a vast subject to work on, but that might be an idea to explore…

— _Well said_ , Mr Palmer…! And now that you speak of it, I do believe remembering that there is nothing to find after only...thirty minutes, if I'm not wrong, and…

—…nothing after only twelve hours if you check the urine, Jimmy continued. I wrote about it in my memoir, he proudly said.

— Well, we should definitely work on that, then... What is funny is that, _technically_ , the ME expectedly looked for an anecdote to tell the man next to him, nothing has officially _proved_ that this kind of drug was forcing people telling the truth, but I guess we can definitely say that it is helping them relax enough to not think too much about their answers. _Rumor said it had been used a lot during both World Wars, and…_

Gibbs briefly grinned at the long conversation about to take place between both doctors, and headed to the elevator, overthinking…  
— — — — — — — — — —

Tim longly glanced at the picture of Prescott on the other side, knowing everyone had already been doing so quite often since that criminal's face had been put against the wall…

— _McGee._

Tim left his dreamy world and faced again the space all around, lights of the bullpen, sounds included, finally reaching his eyes and ears.

— Yes, boss…?

— Go home, McGee.

Tim took a look at Tony and Ziva's desks, surprisingly noticing their emptiness… How much time had passed since they were gone ?  
He opened his mouth in order to say something, but Gibbs stood up from his working corner and approached his agent's spot.

— Yes, they already left, McGee. And now you should go too, I'll still need you tomorrow in the morning.

— Alright, boss, Tim tried holding back a yawn, realizing now how exhausted he could be.

Crazy weeks, these weeks…there were no extra days-off allowed at NCIS until that Prescott was certain to be caught and locked up in jail, and days at work were becoming nights, and sometimes even early mornings...followed by other days, and other nights…

— Start drinking more of this, Gibbs showed his agent his umpteenth cup of coffee, Tim smiling at the sight of it. You're gonna be alright, McGee ? he added. Try not to die on the road, I need you to be fresh and clean in a few hours.

— I'll do my best, Tim smiled again and felt his facial features tense and melt under his skin, extreme tiredness seeming to be playing with it a curious game he couldn't really explain.

He quickly grabbed all his belongings and finally headed to the elevator, knowing it was useless to ask Gibbs to go back home as well, although he knew he would feel way better just saying it.

— Are you sure this...place is safe, boss ? he stopped and said instead, now picturing Gibbs alone in that large empty space.

— Yes, Jethro neutrally answered, eyes on some papers onto his desk, waiting for Tim to leave.

But Tim was still here, near the elevator, and he could see that he was a bit worried for him. Gibbs dropped the files and stared at his agent.

— I'll be _fine_ , McGee. If Prescott tries to walk around again, the security system will have this whole place shut down. No way for him to come in.

Tim sighed and pressed the elevator's button when he finished speaking, worried and tired…  
Well, he thought, definitely too tired to fight...especially against Gibbs.

— Alright, boss, he gave up. See you tom…

He took a desperate look at his watch.

— Well, he mumbled, see you... _later_.

— Good night, McGee.

And Gibbs was already back to reading his files, secretly thinking about his agent… _proud_ , somehow, he guessed, to have someone caring about him that way...  
Tim watched both silver doors open in front of him and reluctantly headed outside, while rubbing his eyes, wondering where his car could have been parked earlier...when a shadow in the dark started walking between the last few vehicles, Tim now seriously looking for his identity.  
A bit of light suddenly revealed who the stranger really was when he reached a brighter corner, and Tim smiled in the end at the sight of him.

— _Hey, Tim, tough night ?  
_

— That obvious, uh ? What about you, Patrick, cleaning already about to start ?

— _Wow...someone would need some extra sleep_ , the voice resonated, the man now approaching his vehicle. _I know it's late, but even for me, it's time to go home !_

Tim rubbed his eyes again and blinked with difficulty as he kept walking, all cars in the dark looking the same…yes, he definitely should start sleeping, if only just a few hours... He stopped for a second and observed the man with a slight exasperation, knowing it was almost every night the same mistake, at least every time they had the chance to meet in here.

— Come on, Patrick...he funnily sighed and started walking again in the same vehicle's direction, I know it's late too, but your car is on the other w…

Tim felt the blow push his entire being as Patrick accidentally pulled the wrong handle, and violently fell onto the tar, exploding pieces of what used to be until now his unique transport setting off some annoying alarms nearby.  
...Gibbs jumped as he heard the awful sound and immediately approached the nearest window, his heart crazily beating under his skin. A car was burning down there, and the parking lot had just turned into a mess. He ran to the elevator without thinking, even ready to take the numerous stairs if necessary, when the automatic voice he hadn't expected loudly resonated inside the bullpen, Gibbs uselessly pressing the cage's button.

 _« This is a NCIS security message. For your safety, all accesses are now temporarily closed. Please do not try… »_

Gibbs slapped the elevator's rectangle, checked the now closed door leading to the stairs, and ran again in the window's direction.

— M _cGee !_ he uselessly shouted, pushing both palms against the glass, instantly taking his phone out of his pocket, dialing 911.

He kept staring at the unbelievable scene from his spot, the woman on the line asking for additional informations. Flames were still licking their pray between these three simple limits, white lines surrounding it and its wrong driver… Gibbs thought for a second of Leon and the numerous NCIS' Security calls he should already be dealing with, knowing his own would probably remain unanswered...  
He felt one of his hand turn red another time as he hit with frustration another part of the window, knowing he should now wait for something to happen in order to let him out, and maybe save McGee.

 _« This is a NCIS security message. For your safety, all accesses are now temporarily closed. Please do not try… »_


	4. The wrong vehicle

— _Can someone open that door !_ Gibbs desperately shouted, eyes staring at one of the security cameras in the bullpen's corner.

He could already hear the ambulance drive in the NCIS parking lot, its colorful lights and strident sound accompanying its crazy movements. He would have killed to be present as well, but at least he still felt a bit safer, knowing they were here.

— Dinozzo ! he said after his phone rang in his pocket.

— _They will not let me enter, boss, I'll follow them to the hospital._

— Keep me updated, Gibbs lowly ordered, frustrated as hell, clenching a fist.

…Tony hang up the call and pressed the acceleration pedal in the darkness, exhausted and worried, trying to focus on the road. He was not that far away now, and all he needed to do was to look for a damn medical truck. When he almost reached NCIS, the sound he was expecting to hear was still resonating in some place, the volume increasing a lot, as if to inform his departure.  
Tony sighed and kept driving...they must have been staying a bit longer, according to the time on his watch. He finally hit the brakes without thinking and let his car in a dangerous corner, not minding, for once, if his precious vehicle might be hurt by anyone, or even stolen... He slammed the door and approached the NCIS' outside entrance, hurrying his pace as he saw the four wheels fastly coming in his direction. Oh no, he would not be following like a docile dog.

— _Hey !_ he grabbed his badge and raised it right in front of the large windshield, the driver stopping his car at the very last minute, propagating some dust on the Special Agent's shoes.

— _Are you insane ?_ the man asked when he put his head out of the window, staring at Tony. We have an emergency inside, we need to go back to the hospital !

— Well, not without me ! Tony warned him in the darkness, although it was easy to see the seriousness of his facial expression. The paramedic seemed to be willing to think about it for a minute, but a word from the other man next to him helped him remember the importance of the situation. He finally sighed and quickly shook his head, welcoming Tony in the back of the vehicle. Tony nodded as a thanks and then hurried inside, now watching Tim and his oxygen mask, multiple burns on his skin... That couldn't be that bad…right ?

— Hold on, McGee, he said in the end as he sat somewhere in the corner, I've ruined my Italian shoes for this VIP seat, so if you die in here, I'll haunt you eternally.

Tim slightly moved when he just finished speaking, but Tony had no idea if it was a body reaction to the bumps on the road, or not…  
— — — — — — — —

— _Gibbs_ , he said as he finally faced him in the bullpen.

— Leon, he reacted, the elevator's opening in front of him looking like a miracle, what the hell happened ?

— Not a single trace of our man, none of our security cameras switched off, and no one in the building either.

— Well...Gibbs revealed an ironic look, if he'd been inside, I would have had plenty of time looking for him, don't you think ?

— I know what you think of the system, Gibbs, Leon continued, but that's the best we've found at the moment in order to limit the damage. _Anyway_ , he seriously added, as you can see, you are free to leave now, I have other agents in the building continuing researches, although I doubt we will find him in here if none of our cameras detected anything.

— So what ? Gibbs reluctantly observed the sunrise through the window, wondering how much time he had been staying in here like a prisoner, Tim's car magically exploded in the middle of the parking lot ?

— _It's not that late_ , Agent Gibbs, Director Vance tiredly stared at him and hid the outside landscape, remember it's summertime.

— What, Leon ? Jethro grinned. You're here to talk about the weather ?

— _Agent Gibbs_ , he insisted, remember we have no idea yet about the identity of our criminal…'he' might as well be a woman, or a whole group of terrorists.

— That's _him_ , Leon. I know it.

— I understand your worries, Agent Gibbs, but can I please remind you that Agent McGee is not a Marine. Therefore, I would seriously doubt that Simon Prescott…

— I have to go, Leon, Gibbs expectedly interrupted him, already pressing the button of the now closed elevator.

Director Vance simply raised a palm in its direction, knowing it was useless to keep talking for the moment, especially when he already had himself so many things to handle. He then only nodded and begun heading to his office, approaching the stairs…

— _Take your time, Agent Gibbs, I do not intend to lose anyone else from your team._

— Neither do I, Director, Gibbs lowly said and entered the silver cage, the bumps of his heart now getting painful again with this strange return to reality...

…Gibbs had just entered the hospital when he saw Tony approaching.

— I felt you might need some help finding the room, his agent tried forcing a smile, not trying to speak more than necessary, only showing the way to Gibbs.

— How is he ?

— Definitely looks like he's been hit by a bus, but I didn't manage to talk to him yet. They'd been taken care of him for the last few hours and now he's back in a bed.

Gibbs nodded and followed Tony to the room number 12, secretly worried of what he could see...  
He finally entered the space and sadly discovered his other agent, legs under a white blanket, multiple bandages along his body.

— They said it wasn't too serious, seems like there was some 'distance' between him and the explosion...Tony lowly explained things, trying not to disturb Tim's sleep anyhow. They're still checking on him, though, it was a hard knock for his head on the tar.

— I can see that...Gibbs sighed, now staring at the additional bandage around Tim's head.

…Both agents stayed a few hours more in that same basic room, only leaving it from time to time in order to get some really bad coffee from the cafeteria...  
Tim's body had moved a bit once or twice without him speaking, but there hadn't been, at least, any new trouble detected during his sleep.  
All in all, the space was nothing more than desperately quiet…  
...Tim's eyes slowly blinked after some time and took a look at the empty ceiling over him, both his heavy eyelids already wanting to shut down, but he tried staying awake as much as possible, still struggling to find out _where_ he was, but too interested to give up.

— _Tim_ , Tony stood up when he noticed the few movements, are you alright ?

— _Where…_ where am I ? Tim lowly asked, now feeling the pain inside his skull. Oh my God, this is…

— _Yeah_ , Tony smiled, it'll pass eventually. You're in a hospital, McGee. Does an explosion ring a bell to you ?

Tim's suddenly revealed wide open eyes, sitting up on his hospital bed.

— Oh my… _Patrick, I…_ I remember now.

— Good, good…Tony instantly reacted, bitting his tongue for such a stupid comment. Keep calm now, McGee, alright ? You need to rest a bit.

— To _rest_? Tim chuckled. Someone tried to kill Patrick and you want me to rest ? Seriously, Tony…

Tony furrowed his brows and sat down on his chair again, bringing the piece of furniture a bit closer to Tim's bed.

— Wait, McGee, that wasn't _his_ car, remember ?

Tim blinked a few times and tried focusing on his painful memories…hardly picturing again Patrick, walking to his car…wait, no, _his_ car...  
Patrick was always mistaken. And their vehicles had always almost looked the same. He closed his eyes for a decisive dozen of seconds, wondering on which side he had parked his car on that day… Yes, _right_ side, he finally, silently confirmed.  
Both alarmed eyes opened again as Gibbs suddenly entered the room, and he could see the trouble on his agent's weak face.

— _McGee_ , he almost ran to the bed, are you alright ?

Tim sat up again and took a look at the empty walls around him, feeling the invisible pressure crushing his heart, Tony and Gibbs visibly waiting for an answer to their mutual question.

— _My..._ my car was parked on the right side, boss, he lowly said, swallowing hardly.

— Then _what_ , McGee, Jethro coldly asked, as usual, although he was worriedly glancing at him.

Tim thought again of Patrick and of all the details his brain was certainly not ready yet to remember, his head painful as hell…

— Someone tried to kill me, boss, Tim finally admitted to everyone, especially himself, the room getting smaller and smaller as he slowly became aware of the unbelievable truth...


	5. Tim's return

— _Wait, what do you mean, by 'he's here' ?_ Gibbs asked.

— Well…Tony tried whispering the lowest way possible, hidden near the elevator, McGee's at his desk…working.

— _I'll be here in a minute._

Tony hung up the phone and begun walking again at a supposed-to-be natural pace, discreetly glancing at Tim with some worries.

— McGee, hey...you're here, he nervously smiled, reaching his own desk.

— Wow, Tony, hopefully you say it, otherwise I wouldn't have noticed it myself…Tim reacted without a look, still staring at his computer.

Tony uselessly cleared his throat and decided to sit down onto his seat, wondering what would be his next exceptional remark...

 _(Ding…)_

Both rectangles opened in front of the bullpen and Gibbs suddenly came out of the silver cage, coffee in hands.

— McGee, what are you doing here ? he asked as he walked in Tim's direction, glancing at the now smaller bandage on one side of his head, the rest of Tim's clothes certainly hiding the other numerous burns.

— I'm reviewing all the explosive attacks that happened in the last…

— _McGee !_

Tim raised his head and gazed into Gibbs with a different look, this time, a look Jethro had to admit not to be very used to see, his agent now revealing some angry signs all along his skin.

— No, boss ! I'm sorry, he added, but I'm not gonna stay home while someone is apparently wanting me cold as a dead body. Anyway, I need to go to Abby's lab, he almost groaned.

Gibbs discreetly sighed and waited for Tim to walk a little bit further to finally start following him...

— _Do you need someth…_ Tim asked when he felt Jethro's presence behind his back.

— No, Gibbs only neutrally answered, moving forward next to his agent when the elevator opened... I just need to go to Abby's lab too.

Tim tried biting his tong and not comment that very last sentence, perfectly knowing Gibbs certainly didn't need to go down there as well.

 _'Please, not an office-style conversation'_ he thought _. 'Please, not an office-st…'  
_

Gibbs pressed the so-famous red button inside and Tim then secretly begged for an instant, painless death...but Jethro expectedly turned his head and faced him with serious eyes, ready to talk.

— McGee, you'd better slow down, he said.

— I'm _fine_ , boss…

— _Really ?_ Gibbs chuckled. Someone tried to kill you three days ago, McGee, if it doesn't affect your work and personal life, then please give me your secret, 'cause I would kill to have it.

— This isn't funny, boss…Tim lowly, but angrily reacted, clearly feeling his blood boil inside of him.

— No, you're right. It's not funny, McGee. So do not act like if nothing happened.

 _'Like you can talk…'_ the new guilty one bitterly thought, momentarily leaving the real world, temporarily forgetting the existence of that dark blue light in this shadowy elevator...he was tired of talking, and definitely not ready for an umpteenth debate about who was secretly feeling better or worst.

— _Hey_ , the voice insisted. Are you alright, McGee ?

Tim's eyes suddenly left the blurry world they had been hiding behind, realizing there was still someone in front of him, apparently talking…

— I said…he desperately sighed. I said I was _fine_ , boss, he finally ended his sentence with tiredness, only wanting to get out of here…anywhere he could be.

— _Wow…_ that was rude, McGee… _and a bit_ _flattering_ , I have to say, Abby added, staring at the inside of the elevator. I know my voice's tone is maybe a _little_ bit lower than other girls, but still... Well, at least I'm your boss, she smiled, now gently wrapping a hand around his shoulder. I'm glad you're back, by the way, she finally added, Tim furrowing his brows at the declaration.

He tried moving a bit when he suddenly realized his body position was hurting...he then slightly jumped, pushing even more his shoulder against the corner of the elevator, now noticing he was effectively strangely sitting on the floor.

— McGee, you're back ? Gibbs neutrally asked, Ducky by his side.

— What do you mean, I'm…he stopped before continuing, knowing asking more questions would be admitting he knew he had passed out. I was just…

— What, McGee ? _Tired ?_

— I was just… _thinking_ …about…he hardly tried to find an excuse, knowing Gibbs' serious face was not only concerned.

He could definitely feel it. No one in here was believing him enough. Yeah, they would never let him go and he knew it...and that was probably the worst of all.

— Please follow me to one of my tables as soon as you feel like you can stand up again, Timothy, Ducky smiled. It looks like you just had a little loss of memory. How was leaving the world for a minute ? Interesting ? he smiled another time.

— I'm _fine_ , Ducky, Tim tried being convincing enough, feeling the immediate dizziness take place inside his brain as he tried moving on his own. _Really_. I was just thinking of something, and…

Tim immediately raised a hand to his mouth, begging inside for not publicly throwing up...if not at all.

— Unconscious thoughts do not count, Gibbs instantly interrupted him and helped.

— I'm good, Tim said, heavily breathing in and out, finally forcing himself to move forward without Gibbs' rescue.

Jethro then stayed where he was and waited for his agent to leave with the ME, inviting, in the end, Abby to come back with him to her lab...

— ...Is Tim gonna be alright, Gibbs ? she finally worriedly asked when she entered again her personal working area, looking for her still full _Caf-Pow_ drink on a table.

— He just needs some sleep, Abby, Jethro tried to reassure her.

— Yeah, that, she said, her straw now between her teeth, _and to come out of denial_. I mean, someone tried to kill him !

— Yeah, Gibbs nodded, that too.

— _Okay…_ Abby now deeply exhaled, definitely willing to think of something else. Where is Ziva ?

— Interrogating a suspect with Tony. He called me when I came to get Ducky, just after McGee started… _thinking_ , he bitterly chuckled.

— _Yeah, right…_ Abby briefly smiled. So what's the name of our man, and what is he guilty of ?

— Ed Linkers. False documents' business expert.

Gibbs immediately walked to the nearest second screen, knowing Abby would instantly be typing the suspect's name on her keypad...and as expected, the face of Ed Linkers almost immediately appeared on it, the computer sharing next to it all the necessary informations about him.

— Twenty-eight years old…wow, some of us really start very young, Abby smiled, typing and clicking again of the man's profile. And why do we have his fingerprints ? she almost asked herself. Oh, someone made some fake IDs at University…she commented with a bit of nostalgia. _Interesting_...so, how did we arrest him in the first place, Gibbs ?

Jethro took his eyes off of the screen he'd been watching, approaching Abby again...

— Looks like our man is quite famous. We arrested someone weeks ago pretending to be from the Navy, and he finally gave us the name of the one who made his fake ID.

— Okay, I guess someone was finally freaked out and asked for a deal…Abby smiled a bit, although she was still not really getting why that seemed to be such a scoop. And this is supposed to be related to…what ?

— To the case, Abbs.

— _Uh_ …okay, Gibbs, but, I still don't understand why it…

Jethro took a last look at all the informations concerning Ed Linkers.

— We've found his material, with a few IDs, he explained.

— _And ?_ Abby turned crazy. Come on, Gibbs, I'm impatient ! she raised both arms in the air.

— One of them had the name of one of our dead Marines. One killed by Prescott.

Abby finally revealed wide open eyes, taking a new sip of her drink.

— Okay, now that definitely makes sense...! I mean… _I guess_.


	6. Ed Linkers' confessions

— I'm surprised Gibbs isn't interrogating our man himself, Ziva said to Tony, both agents waiting outside the room.

— He's downstairs with Abby. And the boss only wants the best…Tony smiled.

— Meaning ?

— _Prescott._ He's getting ready for him, Tony chuckled, he's warming up before his future arrest ! _So_ , what do you think of him ? he shook his head in the door's direction.

— Nothing much, Ziva neutrally answered, I saw him coming…stupid face. He looks as sick as a brick.

— _Thick_ , Ziva…

— Oh, whatever, Tony…let's go inside.

— _Yeah_ , he rolled his eyes, fist around the handle, right, I'll teach you English later…

Ziva ignored that last sentence and quickly walked to the chair next to the table, now sitting right in front of her new accused, Tony deciding standing up somewhere else in the corner, both suspiciously staring at the other young man.

— _Ed Linkers…_ Ziva started.

— Can someone tell me what I am doing here !

— _Nice to meet you too…_ Tony grinned from his spot.

— And you are...?

— Special Agent Dinozzo, you dummy...

— One of your client told us about your little business, Ziva funnily continued, not minding the current teasing around her. Looks like you've been doing this for quite a long time…by the way, did you enjoy University ?

— Come on, guys, the man didn't seem to appreciate the joke, I already paid for…

Ziva brusquely grabbed his wrist and terribly gazed into him.

— My name is Special Agent Ziva David, and I want to know _now_ why you had in your possession an ID with the name of a dead Marine on it !

Tony instantly grinned from where he was but didn't add a single word, his teammate perfectly doing the job, already.

— _Listen, I…_

— Haven't I been clear enough, Mr Linkers, she lowly insisted. _Why_ did you have the ID of Marine Laurence Lloyds in your possession !

The guilty one in the room finally swallowed hardly and rubbed his neck with desperation, taking a look, in turn, at both agents.

— Listen, he pressed a hand on the table, I fucked up, alright, but…

— _But what ?_ Tony begun speaking in the end, taking a step forward.

— I only make fake documents of Marines who are already dead, _alright ?_ I'm…I'm good with a computer, so as soon as I hear of someone's death, I enter their profile in my own database and I start creating new IDs…

Tony moved a bit forward again, smiling and looking at Ziva, who smiled back at him.

— Did this man just said he had hacked the Navy ? he pointed a finger at him.

— Hey, _relax_ , man, it's not like if I had put some kind of virus inside or anything, I'm just looking !

— 'Just looking' ? Tony chuckled before turning extremely serious. You're allowing criminals to pretend to be Marines !

— I don't know who they are and what they do, and it's none of my business ! No, I only provide a service and they provide me money ! Moreover, it's not like if they could actually board a ship in here, right, I guess you guys have your own security system, I mean, if you care about your dead…

— But they can easily access specific places, meetings, and special commemorations anywhere outside the country, especially if you've done everything to confirm their new identities ! Tony slammed his palm against the table, making the man slightly jump as he heard the hit. But what I am saying, uh ? he added. They can as well just wear a stupid uniform and create simple friendship in bars, raising their card in front of innocent people and pretend they're someone in the crowd...

— Then they don't need my help, do they ? And for your information, I personally drink coffee... _Special Agent Dinozzo_ , the man insolently said. That keeps my mind clear and usually out of troubles, so I guess people can do the same, you know.

Tony suddenly lost his temper for a second and almost shouted at the one in front of him, momentarily grabbing one of the files between fingers.

— The man who gave us your name had the time to almost kill someone who was _really_ from the Navy last time he entered an event thanks to your help !

The accused pushed his back a bit more against his chair, briefly rolling his eyes…he finally approached his head again and took a closer look at Ziva, speaking extremely calmly.

— If your system is defective, that is not my problem.

Ziva kept eye contact with her new ennemy but bit her tong for not retorting, knowing she wanted some answers and had to relax enough in order to get them.

— Ever heard of someone named Simon Prescott ? she asked.

— I'm not an informer, Agent Special David, he now said, despising her.

— Does 'criminal' suits you better then ? she briefly grinned.

Ziva sighed and took a picture out of the other file in front of her, quickly showing it to Linkers...

— Our man only likes the best…and from what I understood, you _are_ the best at it. Why I would definitely be surprised if he didn't ever asked you for your help.

Tony crossed his arms around his chest and walked a little bit further from the speaking duet, his body half under the light and half in the shadow as he was keeping on moving, curious to know how things would turn out between the two of them… None of them knew if Prescott had ever used any fake Marine ID in order to approach his victims…they were usually found dead in the nature, therefore there might be no need for it…or maybe he had contacted them earlier and given them the proof of who he was pretending to be…  
But then _why_ Linkers didn't have other dead names, names of the others ones Prescott had killed ?  
Tony heavily sighed and finally rubbed his face when he completely turned back, waiting for his body to reach that corner again before clearing his thoughts…  
Ed Linkers stared at the picture for a minute, both Ziva and Tony trying to see if a spark was crossing his eyes, analyzing their movement…and the young man raised his head in the large glass' direction after some time, his tired face not revealing anything now, except stupidity.

— I don't know any Simon Prescott…he said. Concerning the picture…he added after a pause, Ziva deeply gazing into him, secretly holding her breath, maybe I've already seen him…In fact, I'm not really sure…

— What do you want, Linkers ? Tony's shadowy face turned impatient.

Ed Linkers took a serious look at him and briefly grinned in the end, slowly giving back the picture to Ziva.

— I want a deal, first, he said.

Tony finally calmly approached the one he would have loved to punch right from the beginning, and stood perfectly still in front of him.

— First you tell us what you know…he started.

—…and then we'll see if we can do something in order to help you, Ziva bitterly ended the sentence.

Ed Linkers didn't say a word right away and only revealed a brief smile, a devious one he seemed to be very proud to show them.  
Both agents then stayed where they were in the deepest silence, wondering what the opposite lips would be saying...

— I think you didn't understand me well, Ed Linkers almost whispered. I want a lawyer, he smiled again.


	7. Behave yourself

— Boss ? Tim asked when he went out of Ducky's working area, facing Gibbs behind both automatic doors. Did you need me for something…?

— No, Jethro simply said before leaving, although Tim discreetly grinned near the elevator, knowing he wasn't here for nothing. _Take it slow, McGee_ , he finally added, his agent then feeling boringness take a sweet control of him again, silver rectangles closing in front of him, as if to save him from retorting…

Gibbs briefly watched him vanish in the bullpen's direction and entered the place where his ME was now sitting, the old man probably taking some notes about a file.

— Duck ? he interrupted him. How is he ?

Ducky pushed his chair a bit away from him as he heard the voice, and slowly stood up again, now facing Jethro.

— He is fine, he smiled. But it has been quite a shock for his head that other night, and sometimes it can lead to migraines, brief losses of memory, or even faintness… I am pretty sure I am not teaching you anything that you already know, but well…it had to be expected, right ?

— What do you mean ? You think he came back too soon ?

— Well, it is certainly more than an evidence, but on the other hand, I have to say that I do feel a little better, knowing that someone can be around if Timothy feels a little weaker than usual. An elevator is not the best place on earth for this kind of events to happen, he chuckled, but it is, at least, the nearest possible to where I usually am.

Gibbs simply nodded and took a look at the empty table, knowing all these dead had been there…knowing Tim had been there too, only a minute ago. He perfectly knew it wasn't for the same reason at all, but he still felt, somehow, a bit sick at the idea…yes, only three days ago, Tim could have been lying on there too…dead.

— Uh, Jethro…are you alright ?

Gibbs simply gazed into him for a brief moment and finally headed to the elevator without a word, mind behind that blurry veil of thoughts, as usual...

— And here he goes again…Ducky lowly pronounced, walking back, in the end, to his desk...  
— — — — — — — —

..When Tim entered the bullpen, there was no one he could really talk to. He had no idea about the previous and current interrogation of Ed Linkers, and therefore no idea neither where Tony and Ziva could be at the very moment. He sighed and finally decided going back behind his desk, knowing there would still be something to do about the case, something to find about that murderer.  
Or _these_ murderers…yes, after all, how to be sure if Prescott had been the one trying to kill him ?  
Tim rubbed his neck with desperation and typed his password on his keypad, his computer welcoming him with its usual screensaver...he clicked on a document before stopping.  
What if no one had _ever_ tried to kill him ? Yeah, maybe someone knew he would end his work late, and that Patrick would be here…what if…what if someone knew as well that Patrick would try opening the wrong car, and…  
Tim's eyes heavily closed for a dozen of seconds, giving him plenty of time to realize how pathetic and stupid he was with his suppositions.

— _Right_ , Tim, this case isn't complicated enough, now you're making up a completely new, unbelievable version of it…he sighed and talked to himself, his reflection briefly looking at him on his computer's screen.

 _This wasn't making any sense…_  
He tried focusing again on his current document, getting rid, as he could, of the thoughts intruding in his brain… It wasn't the first time they'd discovered a dead body for the stupidest reasons…right ? Well, not always stupid, but maybe not justified enough…adultery, jealousy, wrong target, drunkness, hit-and-run…working for the Navy didn't mean that all crimes were always premeditated...  
He sighed again and pushed both his palms against his temples, exasperated by so many questions, but exhausted as well, if he had to be honest…who could tell how tired a single body could be after only one hit, and this, days ago ? The burns all along his body parts weren't making him feel extremely comfortable, but still, they weren't that bad. Only his head was really messing him up with him, not getting rid of his numerous, unbelievable questions, but pushing him to the limits of a tiring nervousness... Yes, so many questions, and not a single answer at the very moment…that was probably the worst, for a Special Agent : not knowing, only guessing with no promise, in return, of any kind of confirmation…  
Gibbs worriedly watched him from his spot, the sound of the elevator not seeming to have been loud enough for Tim to notice it.  
He sighed and finally begun walking again in another direction, knowing he had work to do for now, but that it wouldn't be over.  
At least Tim was only sitting behind his desk, nothing very exhausting, if only, maybe, for his brain…

— ...I do not know what is worst, Ziva exclaimed later, entering the bullpen after some time, the fact that he is a complete asshole or that he looks so good at hacking that he could actually be working for us !

— _Yeah_ , Tony groaned, joining her, and now he wants a lawyer…I'm sure he knows who he is !

Tim raised a very curious head in their direction, glad, in a way, that he could now stop thinking all by himself, and waited for them to come closer before speaking.

— Who are you talking about ? he asked.

— No one, McGee…Ziva sighed, just a stupid man, named Ed Linkers.

— And who's that ?

— A guy who's creating fake IDs with dead Marines' names. One of the names was someone Prescott had killed.

Tim felt his cheeks turn a bit redder than usual, not knowing if he was happy to be kept informed now, or frustrated not to have known all of this before. He stared at his watch for a second, giving them the benefit of the doubt, finally noticing the very long time he had visibly spent alone in the bullpen. Well, maybe they had...

— That coffee was horrible, by the way, Tony, Ziva instantly ruined their last chance to convince him, we definitely need to do something to ch…

— Wait a minute, Tim finally said, checking one last thing. Did Gibbs know about it ?

— _Uh,_ of course...! Tony grinned. Wake up, McSleep, the boss always knows everything.

— So what are you saying, Tim suddenly turned madder, that Gibbs knew you'd been running an interrogation and that he didn't even told me, and you guys were just having a coffee break after that, instead of telling me right away what had just happened !

— _Hey_ , _wow.._.calm down, McGee, Tony stood up from the desk he'd been comfortably sitting on top of, these days are really hard for everyone, okay, there's nothing wrong having a cup of c…

Tony immediately clenched his fist. Bad thing to say.

— Really hard for who, Tony ! _I_ am the one who almost exploded in that parking lot, remember ?

— _I perfectly know that_ , McGee, and you know we were all extremely worried, but we have all these Marines dying too, and...

Tony clearly noticed Tim's justified feeling of unfairness, and he couldn't be less sorry for him, knowing he would have never forgiven himself if Tim had been found dead, that very night, but thruth was that these whole last weeks had been extremely demanding at NCIS, and everyone was definitely on the verge of a breakdown, whether or not his teammate was agreeing with that fact.

— Yeah, right, Tim angrily continued, maybe I should have just been a dead Marine, then I would have gotten a bit more of your attention, Tony !

— _That is not what you think !_

— Gibbs told us to give you some space, McGee ! Ziva finally interrupted the dialogue, sighing. We all knew that you needed to rest after you passed out, he told us about it, that's why we…

That was enough. Tim brusquely pushed his seat away and stood up with a violent energy, something he wasn't even sure, himself, to be fully controlling, nor expecting. He hit his desk with both tense hands and stared at Tony and Ziva, a few other colleagues now completely turning their heads in his direction.

— I do not need to be taken care of ! he almost shouted. I'm _fine_ , and from now, and this, until the end of that case, he pointed a finger at his desk, I want to know everything ! I am clear ! he added before stopping.

Tony and Ziva, including a few other people Tim was definitely not willing to take a look at, stared at him with wide open eyes, not knowing what to say, not even daring to move...and the current situation would have certainly been continuing that way for a very long time, if another voice had not finally interrupted the heavy atmosphere…

— Agent McGee, the voice ordered somewhere from upstairs. In my office, _now_.


	8. None of their business

Tim would have made everything fall from his desk if he had only obeyed his guts, but Vance was now insistently looking at him. Yes, if he wasn't seeing it right now, he could definitely feel it : that presence over his head, that silent authority all around… He only sighed and took the direction of the stairs, the Director now walking to his office's door, waiting next to it for his agent to join him.

— Please, Agent McGee, Leon finally said and raised a hand, inviting Tim to take a seat inside.

Tim automatically thought that he would easily freak out and tremble, knowing how he was usually reacting to these kind of meetings, but he was too upset for now to feel stress enough. Maybe he should say something, after all, telling Vance how _sorry_ he was, how _unprofessional_ this had been…but every time he was trying to free his words, they wouldn't come out of his lips, as if no one really deserved to ever listen to them.

 _He was the victim_.

Yes, whether or not he never really liked calling himself by such a name, that was, for once, what he had been that other night, and if people could only give him one right, it should be the one of living his life the way he wanted. _He_ was a Special Agent, _he_ was risking his life everyday, therefore he didn't need anyone overprotecting him around, especially to keep him away from the case, and…

— _Agent McGee ?_ Vance repeated.

Tim raised his head and gazed into the Director, noticing now how low his eyes had previously been.

— Yes ? he then simply pronounced, other words definitely not ready to be said.

— Well, it is true that I did started that conversation, but I do guess I am now the one waiting for an explanation…

Tim tried talking to him but didn't say anything else, discreetly clenching his fists, something Director Vance noticed anyway…he then sighed and begun speaking first again.

— How are you feeling, Agent McGee ?

— Alive.

— Well, I guess that's still something positive, Leon briefly smiled.

But again, Tim didn't even try commenting, only staring at something, anything, in fact, like…the desk's lamp…

—…Okay, what was that ? Tony asked from downstairs.

— He almost got killed, Ziva said, I think he doesn't realize yet what…

— Because you do, David ? _I don't._ Come on, I was just stupidly telling him how…'tense' we all were, putting his nearly death in the same basket, like…

— We were all worried, Tony. But you didn't lie. We were all already getting crazy at NCIS without that terrible attack, you cannot blame yourself for being exhausted.

— I know…Tony went back to behind his desk, not especially knowing what to do now. We face death everyday. I guess my brain became too lazy to feel anymore, he desperately added, knocking his fist against his temple.

He sighed and took a look at his screen...  
Did he truly realize yet that McGee had almost died ? He thought about what seemed to be such a hard and so simple question at once, instantly asking himself another one…did McGee truly realize, too, what had just almost happened to him ?

— _Where is McGee ?_ Gibbs suddenly appeared from nowhere and asked, coffee between hands.

— He's…upstairs, boss, Tony hesitantly told him, reluctantly glancing at the stairs.

— Anything I should know ? Jethro wondered.

— Well, not really, Gibbs, Ziva lowly commented. He…I mean, uh, we had a little disagreement, and…

— And what, Ziva ! he turned impatient. What's going on in here, did you two lose your tongues ?

Gibbs put his cup on top of his desk and started walking to the stairs, taking a strange look at both his agents... He couldn't help, but notice as well the numerous other faces briefly staring at him, and looking back at their computers, sensing it must have been quite a show…

— Director Vance is waiting for you, Agent Gibbs, the woman upstairs proudly grinned as soon as she saw him coming, secretly happy that for once, she could allow him to directly go inside without a word.

Jethro walked a little bit more and pressed the handle with a strange curiosity, wondering what he would discover inside…  
Tim rolled his eyes as soon as he saw his boss enter the room, Gibbs perfectly sensing it would have certainly been replaced by a rude 'oh, no…' kind of comment if he had dared speaking up...  
He didn't know what to think exactly. If McGee, sitting in front of Director Vance, shouldn't be something especially positive to see, Tim seemed, somehow, to be quite ready for a fight. He looked extremely cold and silent, and maybe a little bit lost, but certainly not scared at all.

— You called me, Leon ? Gibbs normally spoke, as if his agent wasn't in the room.

— Let's say I had the feeling you would come anyway, he smiled. Looks like Agent McGee and myself just had a little disagreement concerning whether or not he should take a break from NCIS.

— I am perfectly capable of working, Director, Tim finally freed the words out of his mouth, sensing it was now or never. I know what you think, and I'm sorry if I was completely out of line, but…

— Agent McGee just let me know he had felt a bit left behind with the interrogation of our last suspect, Leon neutrally said, Gibbs then looking at his agent for the first time since he had opened that door.

— Is that true, McGee ?

— _It is_ , Tim seriously confirmed and swallowed hardly, not knowing if he would be reprieved or just killed right away for his honest answer.

— What's your opinion, Leon ? Jethro asked, looking away again from his agent, Tim perfectly feeling that new kind of pressure.

Tim just wished he could be out of there, out of this masquerade... Gibbs had never cared about Vance's opinion…nor about anyone else's. What a coincidence that he was now asking for his point of view...

— I do not mind having Agent McGee around, Leon slowly and officially spoke again, as long as there isn't any new public fight in my building, he added, briefly gazing into Tim, but according to the last terrible event, I wouldn't mind either if our man decided taking a break. I am, actually, a bit surprised that…

— _I promise you_ , Director, Tim suddenly said. I'll keep my temper in check.

— Well, I guess we are over, then, Leon neutrally ended the conversation, not commenting the previous unprofessional interruption. Agent McGee, I would still seriously advise you to keep your evening free, in order to rest a bit.

Leon sensed that last sentence had irritated Tim, but none of them dared saying a single thing about it, himself perfectly knowing McGee wouldn't ruin his last opportunity to stay at work...  
Tim then quickly nodded and immediately headed downstairs, grabbing his bag without a look at any of his colleagues, only walking to the elevator.

— _Wh...why didn't you say something ?_ Ziva asked from afar.

— _What, me ?_ Tony raised both arms in the air. _You are the one who does not care about feelings, and all that stuff…_

— _That's not funny, Tony !_

— _Okay, I…_ he hesitated, looking for a normal thing to say. _McGee, wait, I…_

But Tim didn't hear a single other word, the elevator's doors opening in front of him, himself immediately going inside…  
Gibbs went down a minute later, noticing Tony and Ziva's strange faces.

— _What ?_ he stopped in the middle of his walk, waiting for someone to explain.

— What happened in here ? Tony finally asked.

— Something serious ? Ziva continued.

— Well, I think Tim did quite a good job upstairs, Gibbs ironically chuckled, joining the two others.

— Okay... I don't know what that means, Tony added, but McGee left like a fury.

Gibbs sighed and thought about what had just happened in Vance's office... Yeah, now they all had a lot of work to do, and it was surely better to let McGee calm down for a little while, but he would come over to his place later this evening, in order to talk to him...


	9. Where the anger is coming from

Tim heard the knock on his door and abandoned his typewriter.

— _Coming !_

He took a quick look at himself, wondering why he had put that white, large t-shirt on…well, it wouldn't matter for a delivery boy, would it. He opened the lock and did the same with the door.

— ' _Evening_ …he lowly said, diving a hand in his pocket, looking for twenty dollars. Wait, you're not the delivery boy…he finally mumbled, noticing the man in front of him.

— _I'm not_ , his new guest chuckled.

— Gibbs…Tim sighed and now revealed a bored facial expression to his boss, still standing where he was. What are you doing here ?

— Why ? You're waiting for someone important ? Jethro briefly grinned, glancing at Tim's t-shirt.

— I guess not…

Tim reluctantly invited Gibbs to come in, closing the door after him once he had fully entered the apartment…he didn't want to talk to him tonight…nor _ever_.

— What's wrong, Tim ? Gibbs finally asked.

— Beside the fact that I almost died, you mean ?

Jethro unexpectedly took a seat and pointed a finger at another one, Tim now sensing it would be a very serious conversation.  
Gibbs had never really been the kind of 'sitting-guy' type, so that was probably a bad sign.

— I know, McGee, he continued. But that's not the first time, is it ?

Tim swallowed with difficulty but didn't even try commenting, knowing deep down how _rude_ this question could be…but still so true… Well, you couldn't really get used to face death everyday, but it would still seem a bit hypocrite as well saying it had been the very first time of his life.

— I've seen you react in different ways when it happened, McGee. Shocked, silent, a bit scared…

— Well, then I'm not _that_ different, now, because I'm a bit scared, too, at the moment, Tim ironically chuckled.

— Really, McGee ? Are you ? Because I don't see any of these reactions. I only see anger.

— Oh, because you think I shouldn't be angry ? What, should I only accept my faith and think that it's maybe gonna be better next time ?

Gibbs shook his head and took a deep look at his agent, rubbing his legs.

— I just wish you could talk to us, McGee…

— Yeah, like you can…Tim suddenly interrupted himself, another knock against the door waiting for an answer. _I… I_ have to open it, he strangely mumbled.

— Go.

' _Saved by the gong_ ' Tim thought, now facing the one he'd been waiting for so long.

— Large Savage with extra cheese, no mushrooms…and additional meatballs, for Tim McGee, the man read the note he had between fingers, raising the pizza in his direction. Oh, and we forgot telling you you could also get a free drink…he added, diving both hands in his big bag, I have, _uh…_ coke, lemonade, sparkling water, and…

— _Any beers ?_ Gibbs suddenly asked from behind, approaching the duet.

— _Uh…_ hi, yeah…well, you can ask for one beer, but…

— Make them two, Jethro calmly ordered, I'll pay the rest.

— _Wait, no, Gibbs…  
_

But the delivery man was already grabbing two beers from his bag, probably very bad quality ones, giving them to Gibbs.

— _Okay…_ he briefly smiled, so here is what needs to be paid… _okay…_ thank you, have a nice evening, guys.

Tim watched the boy leave the corridor and then slowly pushed the door, angry as hell. He definitely should have said something…but would Gibbs had even listened to him ?

— ' _Guys_ '… Gibbs smiled and walked back to his chair, approaching it now near a table.

He opened one of the beers and raised it in the new, silent McGee's direction. His agent then wrapped his hand around the bottle, not really willing to drink this for diner…before he realized he might not refuse a little liquid help.

— What do you think you're doing, Gibbs ! Tim attacked anyway, feeling his voice getting higher than before, the same as earlier at NCIS.

— No, Jethro shook his head, no change of subject. You were about to say something.

— Yeah, _forget it_ , Tim immediately sighed and sat down, taking a big sip of his drink.

Gibbs suddenly grabbed the pizza from Tim's hand and put it away from him.

— Okay, you want me to talk, McGee ? I was scared, alright ? It only happened three days ago, and I already feel like it was months ago…and why that ? Because I still cannot believe that it happened to you.

McGee immediately stood up from his chair and drank a bit more of his drink, already exhausted by the conversation. Gibbs was never the one talking about feelings…and now that he was finally doing it, he already wanted him to stop. All of this was premeditated, as usual, 'cause Gibbs was certainly not like that.  
Tim rubbed his face and tried not looking straight at his boss, only fighting alone his own thoughts from the inside…Jethro noticed the strange process and reflexively stopped his dramatic speech, waiting for his agent to spit it out.

— I don't understand, boss ! I'm so angry, because… _I don't understand !_ I mean, every time we face death…I do not pretend knowing personally any of the criminals we're tracking down, boss, but when the confrontation day happens, I am one of them…

— What do you mean, McGee ?

— I am one member of the team, raising my gun in front of a criminal… _I…_ he tried finding his words. If someone then tries shooting me in the face, or anywhere else, that's because he directly sees me, threatening him with my badge and weapon, and…

Gibbs stared at his agent with sad eyes, although he really tried not showing it. All he wanted was Tim to keep talking.

— I'm not perfect, boss, he calmed down a little, but I do understand you when you tell me you follow your guts…today, I am the one doing it, and boss…I do not know if Prescott is the one responsible, or anyone else…but I'm pretty sure that I don't know who's doing this to me. I do not know Prescott, nor ever heard of Linkers… I made some researches, boss, thinking that they might have known my father in the past, that he might have arrested them, or… But I'm pretty sure you already did your own researches. _Boss..._ he desperately continued, I don't know these men, and my father didn't know them either, so the only thing to think would be that it must be a vengeance…against NCIS, about _all of us_ , about Director Vance, maybe, thing is that I have no damn idea, but this is…

Tim felt the hand on his shoulder, and the tears ready to escape from his eyes. He tired holding them back but couldn't repress a slight trembling all along his body, confidences relaxing, somehow, his tired nerves.

— It's…it's killing me, boss.

Gibbs discreetly nodded and waited a bit more for something next to be said...  
Tim wasn't over, and he knew it…and he was right.

— I always think…but that's stupid…

— _Tell me_ , McGee.

— Every time, when it's gun against gun, if I can put it that way…he sighed, I just feel that they know what they do. One shot in the heart, or the face…it's scary to thinking about it, but then it's over, boss. But with that explosion…I don't know, I just felt…if the bomb had not been settled properly, or if it had exploded at a different moment, when I was not completely in, or out of the car, yeah, like the other night…truth is, boss, that I could have survived in so many different ways…

— And that wouldn't be a good thing, McGee ? Gibbs lowly asked.

— I could have lost a leg…both arms, my brain's capacity…

Now he was getting to the point.  
Gibbs bit his lips and worriedly looked at his agent. He definitely knew what he would say next...

— I could have lost my ability to work, boss…and if this has to be the case, then…well, then I prefer not being alive.

Tim sat down again and looked at what should be now an almost cold pizza.

— I know that's a bit sad to say, but that's how it is, boss...this job is all I have.

Tim finished drinking and tried not looking too much at Gibbs' eyes for a minute, feeling physically, and now psychologically tired, if not exhausted…

— _I..._ I'm gonna rest a bit, now, boss, he finally said after some time, feeling the energy leave his body and soul, Jethro simply nodding and starting moving to give him some space…when his phone suddenly begun ringing inside the room.

— Abby ?

— _Gibbs_ , she loudly exclaimed, _I'm pretty sure Prescott is the one who placed the bomb in McGee's car !  
_

— How, Abbs ?

— _Well, remember we'd seen Prescott walk around NCIS, days before it happened ?  
_

Gibbs nodded at the invisible, briefly gazing into Tim.

— _One of the wires was hidden inside the handle…but you already get that, right ?_ she interrupted her explanation. _Anyway, I realized there was a timer inside the bomb.  
_

— And ?

— _And it matches with the day Prescott has been seen near NCIS. He programmed the bomb to be ready to explode after a specific amount of days…exactly the same number of days since he last came ! So the bomb was now officially engaged from that other night, or at least from earlier on that date, and the next time Tim would have pressed that handle…  
_

— He needed some time in between, to create panic when we didn't expect it.

— _Gibbs, is that security guy outside still protecting McGee ?_ Abby checked. _Because this whole story is just freaking me out !_

— He is, Abbs, he slightly smiled at the choice of words.

Jethro hung up the phone and suddenly walked to the exit of Tim's apartment.

— Wait, what's going on, boss ? Tim held back a small yawn.

— We know it's Prescott, he explained, not really knowing if it would sound positive or not in Tim's ears. Sleep well, McGee, tomorrow I need you to be perfectly awake to keep working.

Tim briefly nodded and tried retorting anything, but finally only watched Gibbs leave with no more details, knowing Vance would kill him if he was coming back tonight…he was so tired anyway.  
He heard the door close and took a despising look at that white, large t-shirt he was usually enjoying wearing…and then walked to the table, where the pizza and Gibbs' bottle of beer were still waiting for someone to grab them… Gibbs had let it completely closed.  
Tim opened it and finally begun drinking again, strangely staring at its now completely cold pizza, wondering why he wasn't feeling better at all… Well, truth was that he was now even _angrier_ than before.

Yes, he now had the proof that Prescott had been the one intending to kill him...and he was now definitely certain that he didn't know him at all.


	10. Unfairness has a bitter taste

Tim was the first one arriving at work, a lack of sleep visible all over his face, but a brand new motivation leading his mind for this very long day he'd soon have to go through.

— McGee, you alright ? Gibbs appeared from behind his desk, coffee between hands, and briefly glanced at his agent, noticing the palpable uneasiness…

Tim only sighed and then quickly headed to his own working space, throwing his bag onto the floor, reluctantly sitting...  
He knew he wanted to be here, and he knew as well that he needed to. But being alone in that bullpen with the same person you had exploded right in front of the night before…that wasn't the best frame to start the day.  
He took a look at the rain, falling against the window, wondering what would…

— McGee, the voice begun speaking again, Tim hugely jumping onto his seat, his heart ready to stop, did you send your report to Director Vance ?

— _Y…_ I did, he finally said, immediately focusing on his computer. I sent it yesterday, just before…

Tim stopped and briefly stared at the item in front of it, noticing it was still turned off.

— I'm gonna go down and see if Abby needs me, he suddenly added before clenching his fist, knowing it wasn't his job to take this kind of decision…

It was as if he couldn't control it…control himself, in fact. That…angry fear that was wrapping his soul with bad energies, that silent, calm stress which was playing with his nerves…  
 _Oh, whatever._ If Gibbs was unhappy, he'd just have to stop him and lock him up again in that stupid elevator before he starts leaving, and if not…well, then he'd just go to Abby's…  
And that was strange, but still what he had expected…Gibbs didn't say anything and let him leave that place, maybe because it was still early…  
Tim walked to the silver cage anyway, entered it, and watched both rectangles join each other right in front of him.

— _Oh…hey, hi, Tim !_ Abby brusquely exclaimed when both doors opened. Definitely not the one I was expecting to see…

— Yeah, looks like it's kind of common, these days, for everybody…

— Hmmm… _grumpy_ Timmy ! Well, she continued, I was about to come upstairs in order to talk to someone, but if you're already here, that's even better ! Would you please accept sparing some time with me, McGee ?

— Of course, Abby…

— _Al…right_ , then !

The volume in her lab suddenly increased as she pressed the appropriate button on her remote control, and Tim instantly felt the numerous beats ready to kill his eardrums.

— _Well_ , so yesterday, _total reversal_ , as you must already know, she started speaking faster, with Linkers finally cracking after we confirmed who…

— _Wait_ , did you guys speak to Linkers yesterday night ?

— Yes, McGee ! Well, technically it's not 'we', but _Gibbs,_ who did it with Ziva, but why don't you… _oh, Tim..._ she suddenly realized, I'm pretty sure he was about to tell you ! _Really_ , when you think about it…she added, seeing Tim's face turn madder than before, it was only a few hours ago !

Tim heavily breathed in and out, trying to calm down and not give anyone any reason to doubt him.

— _Alright_ , Abby…go on.

— _So…_ she hesitated speaking at first, when we told him we now had the proof that Prescott was the one who had placed the bomb, he 'magically' decided not to get into too much trouble, and…

— Technically, we couldn't really find a video, nor any picture of him near my car, we only knew he was there…

— But Linkers didn't have to know that, did he, McGee ? she smiled.

— So what happened, then ?

— _Two things_ , Timmy… First he told us remembering Prescott had contacted him in order to know if one Marine was still alive…

— Which Marine, Abby ?

— We're still working on his computer, right now. He and his lawyer gave us full access to it…yeah, as if he had the choice, she chuckled. This guy is not stupid, McGee, I mean…he's stupid enough for daring hacking the Navy, but he's quite solicited ! Prescott asked him a question about someone named Thomas, or something…but I promise I'll tell you everything as soon as I know ! McGee, come on, if I didn't know you like I do, I'd think you could kill me right now !

— Thing number two, Abby...? Tim sighed.

— _Right !_ He never put the other ones Prescott had killed on his fake IDs, even though he heard about them.

— And why that ?

— Hmmm, ever heard of any John Smith, or James Scott, or…

— Of course, Abbs…Tim sighed again, our dead Marines, for example, and I have, as well, a friend named J…

— _Exactly…!_ Abby proudly pointed a finger at Tim. And our man did not do exceptions, therefore Linkers didn't take the risk putting them in his system, as he already had created fake IDs in the past with men with the same names and last names... I told you he was smart, she added after a pause, sadly watching Tim's face turning bored again.

— Not _that_ smart, I guess, as he finally get caught...

— Okay, _you know what ?_ she pushed him with both arms, accompanying him to the exit of her lab, I was pleased to have someone next to me to talk to in the early morning, but you're carrying _way too much_ bad vibes for me in that beautiful place, she started shaking both palms in the air, so _please_ come back when you'll feel better. And remember one thing…she brusquely said near the large, silver door, deeply gazing into Tim, I only do that for your own good, McGee.

Tim watched the hand leave his shoulder and the rectangle then completely close in front of him, unable to tell what the hell had just happened in here...  
He sighed and tried to get rid of the numerous thoughts in his head...  
Maybe he should just go home and…well, do anything, but staying here.

 _But he needed to know.  
_

...Or he needed, at least, to know if they could catch the one who was trying to kill him. It seemed like there was no reason at all, as he could swear he'd never met that man in the past, but truth was that someone was still trying to kill him, and that needed to stop…

( _Ding…_ )

— _Hey, McGee, where d…_

— When were you supposed to tell me you had interrogated Linkers, Gibbs ? Tim asked without answering to Tony, walking to his desk.

Gibbs raised his head and watched his agent still trying to ask things carefully, Tim perfectly knowing any wrong word out, or any inappropriate behavior could directly lead him to go back home, and this, for the bad reasons…

— Wait, you spoke to Linkers yesterday night ?

— _Nice try, Tony… !_ Tim immediately retorted, eyes on Gibbs again.

— You didn't give me the time, McGee, you went down to Abby's lab as soon as you arrived. I had received orders to check first if your report was over before being able to tell you about any new element in the case...

— But you could have…

Tim suddenly noticed Director Vance heading out of his office, himself immediately bitting his tongue for not making any mistake.

— _You could just have called…_ he finally lowly said, perfectly knowing he would have wanted to speak more, before reaching his desk...

...The atmosphere seemed to calm down a little as Tim switched on his computer, and he then discreetly observed the whole bullpen when everyone turned a bit more silent, thinking of how unfair that situation was…

He briefly stared at Gibbs, Tony and Ziva, when they all were focused on their work.

 _He hated them all._


	11. Ten days before the arrest

— We lost _so much time_ , Gibbs...! Abby exclaimed, all the emails had been deleted a while ago, and I finally discovered he had received Prescott's messages through an online application ! This guy is quite a genius to me, but gosh, he's so unorganized ! _Well_ , she continued, quickly typing words and codes on her keypad, no sign of any Thomas, yet, in the conversation, but the list I am now analyzing seems to correspond with the approximate dates Linkers told us about, so…fingers crossed.

— _Anything new, Abby ?_ Tim suddenly entered the lab, noticing Gibbs' presence. Oh... _hi_ , boss.

— Nothing I can help you with at the very moment, Abby nicely answered, briefly looking at Jethro, feeling something would happen.

Tim looked so tired and nervous already...he'd definitely not enjoy.

— Okay, Abbs, Tim quickly mumbled, leaving her working space with that same energy...

He went out of the room and headed to the elevator again, feeling stupid as hell for this shortest trip ever between both floors...  
He pressed the button and directly headed inside.

— _McGee, wait._

A palm interrupted the closing of the doors and Tim's blood pressure suddenly increased inside of him, the simple sight of his boss being enough to turn him crazy to the bone. But again, he didn't say anything, knowing which button Gibbs' finger would soon be playing with, and how _miraculously_ the whole silver cage would end up standing still in the middle of nowhere...  
He finally prepared himself to open his mouth, sensing something would be said eventually, but Jethro didn't do what he thought he would do.  
No, he only unexpectedly pushed the little circle leading to the outside of NCIS...  
Tim closed his mouth and waited for something new to happen next, feeling his blood silently boil with no recent explanation…but there was nothing to explain, the agent only seeing Gibbs walking to his own vehicle, himself slowly following him...

— Wait, I didn't take my gun and badge, boss, he finally spoke first, where are we going…

— You won't need them where we're going, McGee.

Tim now approached Gibbs' car with two apprehensions, the one of maybe hearing a new explosion if he dared pressing the handle, and the other one of going somewhere he might definitely not be willing to go to...  
Gibbs noticed, at least, the vehicle's fear, but didn't say much about it, only shaking his head in Tim's direction, inviting him to enter the car.

— Boss, where are we going ?

— To the hospital. I want you to see that shrink again, McGee.

— _Wh…_ he suddenly tried to pronounce _,_ but… _why ?_ _Why_ , boss ? Tim asked another time, visibly alarmed.

He uselessly stared at the landscape with crazy eyes, wishing, somehow, that someone could explain this sudden turnover...

 _— I…_ I didn't do any drama, boss, he strangely said in the end, now half begging and blaming his interlocutor.

— It's written on your face, McGee, you're on the verge of a burnout...

But Tim only shook his head in return, refusing going inside that damn car.

— _No_ , boss…! he felt his cheeks turn redder. _I don't..._ I don't agree…!

Gibbs didn't enter his vehicle yet and only deeply stared at his agent, silently challenging him with the simple help of his eyes.

— I did what I was asked to do ! Tim exploded. I went to see that shrink after that Prescott tried killing me, I wrote my report concerning what happened that night, I said Director Vance I wouldn't make any new troubles…! I went to work a bit too soon, that is true, but we haven't been the perfect definition of _field_ agents anyway, right ? I guess I was then not forced to make too much physical effort, was I ? I did _everything_ , Gibbs, then I'll not do anything else unwillingly !

Gibbs finally slammed the door on his side and immediately begun walking to Tim, now pressing his hand against the top of the vehicle.

— _Stop_ being angry, Tim !

— _I'm not_ , Gibbs ! Tim suddenly almost shouted. And I'm tired of…

— You're full of hatred, McGee, don't you see ? And that's why I want you to see that shrink again, in order to talk about it ! You need to snap out of it, if you ever want to be able facing other moments like this !

— Come on, boss, you wouldn't do that yourself if someone was giving you that order !

— I don't care what you think of me, McGee ! I'm your boss, and you're gonna do as I say ! You want to complain about me during your whole future session ? Please do feel free, but go and see that shrink again ! Just take an appointment, speak with him, and come back when it's done !

Tim reluctantly took a look at his potential future seat and at the open door he was still verbally fighting next to...  
He then slowly gazed into Gibbs' eyes and said what he truly thought at the very moment…finally pushing that same door in order to close it.

— I'm not coming, boss.

Gibbs furrowed both his brows and waited for Tim to finish.

— You know what ? I am _tired_ of being treated like a child who doesn't know what he's doing. This is my case, and…

— _Your_ case ? Yes, let's talk about it, McGee, and about how you should already have been put out of it !

— This man, Tim continued without listening, and only if that's the good one, he is killing Marines, and I am an NCIS Agent, therefore I have the same rights for working on it !

— That excuse might have been good at the very beginning, McGee, but it stopped once that same man tried killing you ! Yes, you have the right getting informations about the case, and we have to protect you the best way possible, but you have to _stop_ this, McGee, or it's gonna kill you !

— Yes, as if I hadn't already almost lost my life...he chuckled in the end, not controlling the words anymore.

Tim didn't wait for Gibbs to be over and begun walking again in the NCIS building's direction, driven by his own, crazy feelings...

— _Hey,_ where do you think you're going ? Don't walk away from me, McGee !

Gibbs quickly ran to Tim and suddenly grabbed his agent's arm, forcing him to face him.

— This is my _last_ word, McGee, call that shrink. _Right now._

He could feel all this negative strength inside his agent's tense arm, but he knew he needed first an answer before letting him go…  
Tim heavily exhaled and madly stared at him, slowly opening his lips...

— I'm not going anywhere, Gibbs, am I clear ?

Jethro didn't tried speaking louder as he heard the question, but suddenly tightened his grip around the skin, revealing, in turn, one of his most serious facial expression.

— Then I want you to go home, McGee. _Now._ And there's no need to come back until you've got that medical appointment taken.

— _Fine_ , Gibbs ! Tim then begun heading in the parking lot's direction again.

He clenched both fists and wished there was something he could break...

— _I'm not done yet, McGee_ , the voice still resonated behind his back, Tim angrily noticing the steps coming back next to him. We're gonna wait a minute for Tony to drive you home.

 _That was it._ For the umpteenth time since he had been attacked, Tim could feel that inside volcano painfully explode inside of himself, some terrible, silent anger he didn't seem to be able to express properly...  
He didn't want anything from them, nor from anyone in here…  
He _didn't_ …he _couldn't_ …he…

— I don't need anyone to drive me home, he finally said, but _thanks_ , boss !

But Gibbs' last sentence seemed powerful enough to make him stop when he commented his agent's last verbal attack, although Tim did not think anything could have made him done so at this very moment of the day. He guessed his boss was the Master at it...

— That was _not_ a proposal, McGee, Gibbs gravely added. We're waiting for Tony to join us…otherwise you're fired !


	12. Tensions in the team

— He's home, boss.

— _Is the man in charge of his protection still there ?  
_

— He is.

— _Fine._

— B…

Tony stared at his phone's screen after Gibbs hung up and deeply sighed inside his car, eyes on Tim's building.  
He had never seen Gibbs _that_ angry, nor Tim, by the way…or at least so rarely that it was then truly scary watching his boss react this way… He hadn't even heard that conversation they had in that parking lot, but according to McGee's face when he had received the task to drive him home… _yeah_ , that mustn't have been very great.

Tony sighed another time and moved the key between fingers, the roaring of the vehicle now signaling him its departure…

— ... _Anything new, Ziva ?_ he asked, entering the bullpen.

Ziva ended her current call and raised her head in her teammate's direction, Tony finally noticing Gibbs' presence when he reached his own working space.

— Seems like Prescott has been seen around here. A man from some hardware store was checking his security videos when he saw someone corresponding to our man.

Gibbs almost immediately stood up and walked in the middle of the bullpen.

— _Alright_ , Ziva, Tony...go and visit him.

— Oh please, boss, let me g…wait, _what ?_ Tony suddenly stopped, staring at Gibbs. You…you're not coming ?

— You've got a problem with that, Dinozzo ? Maybe you prefer staying here, writing reports ?

— _On it, boss_ , Tony immediately said, grabbing his bag, following Ziva to the elevator…  
— — — — — — — —

— ...Gibbs staying at NCIS rather than meeting someone who might help us with the case ? Sounds pretty disturbing…Ziva said as she went out of the car, taking off her sunglasses.

— Since when do Mossad Agents think something is disturbing ?

— Oh, come on, Tony ! You know what I mean.

— Yeah, well, I'd rather not talk about McGee right now, if you don't mind, because I'm pretty sure it's related to him.

— McGee is home, Tony…why would Gibbs stay at NCIS ? It's not like if he was willing to visit him, or something…

— Definitely not, if you want my opinion…especially after what I saw.

— _Wow, wow, wow…_ Ziva suddenly ran to him, what did you see, Dinozzo ? No one kept me informed about any of this !

Tony stopped right in front of the hardware shop and tried facing the woman the way he could, bright sun over his head now half blinding his eyes.

— Are you kidding me, David ? You _really_ want to have gossips ?

— What's wrong, Tony ? Ziva finally slowly asked, suspiciously looking for any clue he could be giving her.

— Forget it, we have someone to talk to...

— Spit it out, Tony ! We can spend a minute talking, it's not like if Prescott was about to come back any soon !

— Okay, David, Tony suddenly accused her, deeply gazing into her eyes, you and Gibbs interrogated Linkers that other night and no one ever thought of telling me that ?

— It was written in our reports…and you would have known it the next morning with McGee, it's not a big deal !

— Oh, you know what I mean…! Did you ever wait to read a report to know about an interrogation ?

— So what would you have wanted ? For us to interrupt your date of the night, in order to let you watch us from behind that glass ?

— _Uh…yes_ , Ziva ! That's our job, remember ? And as far as I hate coming back to work when I'm already home, I know what I signed for !

Ziva sighed and took a look at the shop…  
Maybe Tony was right…maybe they should have contacted him… _somehow.  
_

— It was definitely a last minute thing, I was here with Gibbs, and we only needed two people…she started speaking again the wrong way. But I guess we could have left you a message…she finally admitted, Tony noticing now the slight uneasiness in her voice.

— _Yeah_ , that would have been nice, he gritted his teeth.

Ziva briefly glanced at the man inside the building.

— _Happier ?_

— _Yeah_ , Tony ironically whispered, before heading to the door…  
— — — — — — — —

— Anything new, Agents David and Dinozzo ? Director Vance asked as soon as they entered the bullpen again, both arms behind his back.

— We've talked to that man and watched his security tapes. We identified Prescott.

— And when was it ?

— Last night, Director, Tony answered.

— And a civilian identified our man at night from a security video ?

— He has a son in the Navy, so he's watching and reading a lot of informations about us. He found out about our Prescott's Wanted notice and thought he had recognized him.

— We spent hours outside, talking to a lot of people, Ziva gave him the answer he truly wanted before he even had to ask for it. No sign of him, Director, she finally shook her head.

— Anything on Miss Sciuto's side, then ?

— Still working on the computer, Leon, Gibbs added from behind his desk, quickly looking at everyone. She'll tell us as soon as she has some news.

Leon Vance sighed and suddenly stared at Tim's empty desk, now speaking louder than before.

— Is Agent McGee feeling alright, Agent Gibbs ?

— Everything is under control, Director, Jethro simply commented.

— Well, I guess you'll tell me about it later, Leon briefly said before heading to the MTAC again, a million thoughts inside his head…  
— — — — — — — —

…Everyone had been working in the strangest discreet atmosphere ever for quite some time now, when Abby's face suddenly appeared on Tony's screen, blocking his view on his previous files.

— _Hello, hello…!_ she exclaimed before stopping, noticing the surprise on his face. _Wait, this is not Gibbs' computer !_

Gibbs immediately walked to his agent's furniture, Ziva then reflexively joining the weird trio...

— I'm here, Abbs, what's new ?

— _For now, I'm trying to understand why this hasn't been working the way I wan…_

— _Abby…_ the three NCIS Agents unexpectedly sighed at once, all momentarily looking at each other.

— _Alright, alright ! McGee isn't here ?  
_

— Not at the moment…Ziva calmly said, waiting for the info.

— _Alright, then... I need all of you to join me to the lab !_ she almost ordered. _And tell Director Vance as well, please, guys !  
_

— Director Vance ? Tony questioned her, Gibbs silently asking the same question.

— _Oh, why don't you j_ _ust come…!_ Abby complained in the end, before switching off the mysterious video chat.

The whole team, or at least the one available at the moment, finally reached the elevator, all guessing what would Abby be saying, but more importantly, wondering if they'd finally get something to really move on with the case…

— _We're here, Abby._

— _And I'm here as well, Miss Sciuto..._

— Hey…hi ! I mean, _hello_ , Director Vance, she nervously smiled. _Alright_ , she quickly continued, already feeling the pressuring impatience flying all over the lab. I _finally_ found the message I was really looking for, the one confirming the conversation between Prescott and Linkers. He had all everything wrong...! _Great brain_ , she mumbled, _but no memory at all..._

She stopped a second and stared at the natural empty space left between the members of the team, that same space visibly due to the absence of Tim…

— Is anyone angry at McGee at the moment...? she asked.

— _Abby..._ Ziva sighed, I already told you that he was…

— No, no, I don't mean right now, « right now », she begun weirdly gesticulating with both hands, I mean at the very moment !

Everyone started looking at her with deep incomprehension, wondering what she could be talking about…so Abby quickly typed a few words on her keypad and let them watch the Marine's ID in the middle of her large screen.

— Prescott has been asking for informations about a former potential dead Marine…she scarily sighed. Not Thomas, or anything, _no…_ The Marine Timothy McGee.

Both Gibbs and Leon Vance suddenly silently approached that same screen, the rest of the team now standing still behind in a complete state of shock, and stared at the serious facial expression and half body in uniform, reading the various details next to it...

— This cannot be a real picture, Miss Sciuto.

— _I know_ , Director...! Abby instantly reacted, visibly alarmed. But...Simon Prescott _seems to think_ that McGee is responsible for something, and right now…she begun shaking both hands again, well, I'm very sorry for speaking that way, Director, but I'm really... _really_ freaked out.


	13. Are we gonna tell McGee ?

— Boss…Tony revealed a large smile. That cannot be true, _right ?_

Gibbs furrowed both his brows and already begun walking outside Abby's lab.

— No time for self pity, Dinozzo…we have a case to solve ! _Abby_ , he seriously added before leaving, do not call him.

— How did you know I…but Gibbs, _why...?_

Abby stood still where she was for a second, waiting, somehow, for some kind of confirmation…  
Indeed, Director Vance was still with them all in the room, and she had no idea what would his decision be.  
But maybe he was right…maybe for Tim's own safety, it'd be better for now not to t…

— Do as he says, Miss Sciuto, Director Vance finally nodded, briefly glancing at Jethro.

— Tony, Ziva, Gibbs then suddenly said, come with me.

— Do what you think is best, Agent Gibbs, Leon seemed to give his last order or advice, watching the trio leave the place he was, himself, decided to stay in. _Now, Miss Sciuto, I'll need you to…_

Tony almost ran to Gibbs, entering the elevator with Ziva and him.

— _Wait_ , boss…are we gonna tell McGee about this ?

— Did he take his appointment yet ?

— Not that I know of...Tony dared answering and sighed. _I…_ I haven't been in contact with him since I left him at his apartment.

He discreetly noticed Ziva's look but knew she wouldn't ask questions anymore. He had already told her how mad he'd felt for not having been kept in touch about Linkers' interrogation, and with that new discovery in Abby's lab…yeah, that was definitely not the time for questions…  
The elevator's doors suddenly opened and freed the three agents from the silver cage, Tony and Ziva perfectly knowing Gibbs would be soon giving specific orders.

— _Ziva._

— Boss ?

— Call that shrink at the hospital, and ask him if McGee planned any appointment with him.

— On it, Gibbs.

— _Tony.  
_

— Anything you need.

— I want you to reopen all the cases McGee has been involved with. Anything, how little it is, that might have been related to him, must be analyzed again, from the bottom to the top. Bring anyone you need from the building, if that helps.

Tony obediently nodded and immediately started what he now had to do.

— We're all gonna protect McGee's apartment in turn, Gibbs continued. I'm starting tonight. _Ziva ?_ Call me as soon as you know about his appointment. Then I want you to ask for a second security guard.

— Is Tim's place safe enough, boss ?

— We already checked that, but I want a double confirmation as soon as we'll have the second security guard. _Tony_ , contact the experts before doing anything else. I want them to check his car again as well.

— But, boss, he's not using it anymore, since…

— I said 'contact the experts', Tony ! Prescott might have placed a new bomb inside, whether or not the vehicle is parked elsewhere. Is that a good reason enough for you ?

— Alright, boss. _Experts, car, apartment._

Gibbs angrily grabbed his badge and gun, and walked again to the elevator, already pressing the button, pointing another finger in his agents' direction.

— Ziva, once you're finished, help Tony with the files. No one is coming home tonight until I said so, am I clear ?

— _Cristal_ , Tony reflexively answered, Ziva nodding as well in order to agree, already grabbing her phone…  
— — — — — — — —

Gibbs seemed ready to hang up the phone when he noticed the time on his watch…

— Wait, Ziva. When did you say he had planed his appointment ?

— _In about half an hour, Gibbs. Director Vance managed everything in order for the shrink to be ready at any moment, if necessary. Seems like McGee waited a few hours before finally calling.  
_

— Alright, he said, staring at the building from the inside of his vehicle. Then tell the experts to wait. They can enter his apartment while he's out, that'll be better... I don't need extra paranoia for now.

— _And I think McGee doesn't need either_ , Ziva briefly smiled on the other side of the line.

Jethro sighed and took another look at his watch…  
 _Why ?_ Why was everything always so complicated...

— _Gibbs ?_ Ziva begun speaking again. _I just wanted to tell you that I do agree with you. I wouldn't have told him right away. Especially these days.  
_

— Where's the other man I required ?

— _On his way, boss. Tony just sent him to McGee's address. He'll stand near the other exit. If the two of them then see anyone coming, they'll be able to stop him.  
_

— McGee won't know about the other one ?

— _Shouldn't be knowing for now...  
_

…And Tim finally went out of his building when a taxi quickly joined him next to the pavement, Gibbs then immediately starting his own vehicle in the night, ending the conversation, following his agent….

— …He still hates us, he calmly said, a couple of hours later.

— _How do you know, Gibbs ?_ Ziva asked.

— It's written on his face, Jethro briefly sighed, eyes on his agent again, Tim now heading to his apartment.

— _At least he came to his appointment_ … _are you gonna let him come back to NCIS ?  
_

 _—_ Is his place safe ? Gibbs neutrally asked in the darkness, still sitting inside his car.

 _— Everything has been checked, boss. If someone ever came inside, there is no trace of it._

 _—_ Then let's let him calm down for tonight.

 _— You think he'll not tell Director Vance he just went back from the hospital ?_

Gibbs briefly chuckled from his hiding place, worried eyes uselessly staring at the windshield.

— No, Ziva. McGee's got way too much pride for doing that. I'll figure out something later. Now let's let him have some time resting where he is.

— _You mean 'hating us' ?  
_

— Yeah, Gibbs grinned. Let's do that.

Gibbs stayed another minute on the phone, talking to Ziva, knowing he needed to stay alert as long as possible, in order to do his best to protect McGee… But maybe he should have ended that second call earlier, after all, and only kept staring at the building…but somehow, he could feel it. Yes, that was good to be speaking with Ziva...

— _Boss, there's just a million cases where McGee could have been involved…_ Tony begun speaking after some time, Ziva now by his side.

— _Yes, Gibbs, it's like looking for a needle in a…it's almost impossible, Gibbs !_ she finally mumbled, visibly frustrated.

— _McGee was right, Prescott and him do not know each other, therefore it is impossible to find a case related to the two of them !  
_

— Keep looking ! Jethro ordered on the phone, noticing Tim's lights were still on…

— _Guys !_ another voice suddenly joined the conversation, although Gibbs could only hear it from afar.

— _Abby's on the phone, Gibbs_ , Ziva immediately commented. _I mean…technically._

— What do you have, Abbs ? Tony and Jethro pronounced in unity.

— _Combo ! she smiled. So, more seriously, I found the source of that Navy profile of Tim. Well, not the 'source', exactly, but I can tell you at least since when that profile has been put in the system.  
_

— And when was that ? Gibbs turned impatient.

— _About nine months ago..._ Abby almost instantly answered. _So I'm not in our man's mind, but from what I guess, I'd say don't look too far with the cases. In my opinion, those from a year ago might definitely be enough._

Gibbs expectedly hung up the call and Ziva briefly glanced at the numerous files, knowing they could all soon be getting rid of some of them…

— So now it gets easier…she finally pronounced, both Tony and Abby watching her from their mutual screen and seat.


	14. A week before the arrest

Tony strangely stared at a glossy paper inside a file, and suddenly closed it for the millionth time, after only five minutes…before suspiciously reopening it, that same frustrated expression onto his face.

— What's wrong, Dinozzo ? Gibbs finally furrowed both his brows and walked in his agent's direction, eyes now looking at that same file Tony had just reopened in front of him.

— I might have...something, but I'm not sure…he hesitated. _Do you…_ he added before stopping.

— Yes, Tony ?

— Did you know Prescott had a girlfriend ? he raised his head and took a brief look at his boss, before staring again at the document.

— Well, I figured it might have been a possibility, after a few dozen of years, Dinozzo…Jethro ironically commented, as if ready to turn angry.

— Sorry, _my bad_ , Tony nervously smiled. I mean…did you suspect he might ever had a son ?

— No, Gibbs neutrally answered, and I don't remember anything about this case, saying he would have had a baby. _Why_ , what did you find, Dinozzo ?

Tony sighed and wondered if he should be saying what he really wanted to say…

— Anything new, Ziva ?

— _Nothing, Gibbs, but Abby is doing her best._ Did you find something, Tony ? she added as she approached his desk.

Gibbs momentarily observed the ceiling of the bullpen, relieved, somehow, that he'd, at least, get something from Tony…well, _if_ Tony was willing at some point to give him the information. Ziva approached the duet without any comment and waited, in turn, for her teammate to tell them what he might have discovered.

— We don't have the whole day, Dinozzo ! Gibbs finally said, turning impatient.

— _Uh… I…_ Tony unexpectedly begun pronouncing, now vulnerable as a child, as if he was afraid to speak, worried that someone might have interrupted him before he even had the time to figure out, himself, if his gut was telling him something right.

 _They'd probably laugh, right…but what if…come on, it could b…_

— Yes, _what about it ?_ Gibbs became insistent. _  
_

_— Sorry._ Uh, actually, I…Tony nervously begun rubbing his chin. I don't have _any_ proof, boss…

— Come on, Tony, you must have something, Ziva retorted.

— Well…he finally closed the file another time, not caring anymore about Gibbs' scary glance. There is a case we have worked on, about a year ago.

Tony stood up from his seat and started explaining the story with some new energy, the bottom of his jacket briefly flying under his movement.

— A Marine, Bryan Leavers, had been found dead in the water, last summer, his body floating about one kilometer from his ship, remember ?

— Could you be more specific, Dinozzo…Gibbs now seemed ready to lose his temper.

Tony heavily sighed and finally gave the file to Jethro, this, with a strong apprehension…Ziva approaching Gibbs, and immediately staring at that same document he was now taking an attentive look at.

— I don't know this name, Tony…! he lowly complained, quickly rereading all the informations written.

— I know, but come on, guys ! I mean… _boss_. Don't…

Tony nervously rubbed his face and took another deep breath.

— Don't focus on the name, just take a look at the picture !

Both Ziva and Gibbs then did as requested, Tony's brain looking like it was ready to explode, and finally gazed into the agent's eyes, visibly seeing, at least, a _little_ something of what he was seeing as well.

— _So ?_ Does his face ring a bell to you ? Tony seriously questioned them.

Gibbs sighed and silently begun thinking…

— I guess we can still take a look at his personal history, Dinozzo...he started speaking, knowing they didn't have a lot, anyway... _Wait…_ last summer ? Gibbs almost immediately asked. _When ?_

— August, boss.

— When exactly, _end of August ?_ he seemed to be thinking even more.

— _Uh…_ yeah, Tony confirmed after reading the date again.

Jethro stopped and took a disappointing look at Tony, although it didn't really mean this was actually his fault.

— Tim asked for a few days off, last summer…he wanted to visit his family, Gibbs begun walking to his desk. Cannot be related to our man.

The bullpen suddenly sadly turned silent, and Tony could have sworn that everyone had discreetly exhaled at once…

 _'Damn it'_ he thought after some time, feeling his hair under his palms...

Gosh, he was so tired…and powerless…  
Yeah, maybe he should get back to work. But if he'd briefly thought of focusing on something else, in order to keep on helping Mcgee, he finally reopened the file a few minutes later without really knowing why, Gibbs' eyes still staring at him from time to time, from his desk, as if to say 'stop torturing yourself'...  
But he didn't care, right now. No, all he could feel for now was what Gibbs was usually calling the 'gut power', and…but yeah, maybe it was just too much hope and not enough proof to work on, that was leading him to truly believe he should focus on _this_ file, and not another one...

— _Wait…_ he pronounced in the end, reading somewhere the name of Tim on the last page…he actually _was_ there !

Gibbs immediately walked in his direction, quickly followed by Ziva, both NCIS Agents extremely tired, but curious at the same time.

— I remember, now ! Tony almost spoke for himself. _He…_ he wasn't present on the whole case, but he did postpone his trip…a day, or two…right ? I think there was a Marine…arrgh, I don't remember his name…but I'll find it ! Yes, I think Tim asked for going on the ship to run some interrogations, because he'd heard that one of the Marines had been going to MIT with him.

— Marine Leonard Crammers ?

— Yeah, David, that's the one ! Tony pointed a finger at her. _Wait…_ how do you remember his name ?

— I've got a good memory, Tony…she gritted her teeth.

— Okay, _anyway_ , Tony kept that new crazy energy, we never found the one who had killed that Marine, but…

— Hey, Dinozzo ! Calm down...Gibbs warned him. What do we have, really ? he raised both arms in the air. A case, McGee has been working on for a maximum of two days, in the middle of dozens of other cases he could have been more involved in, and a man named Bryan Leavers found dead that looks a bit like Prescott ? I know we're all tired, but this doesn't make any sense, Tony...!

Tony unexpectedly stood up and faced Gibbs with very serious eyes.

— _Boss…_ he hesitated first, looking for the right words. _Just…_ just ask Abby to find infos about that, alright, and make me do anything you want concerning _any_ _other cases_ in the meantime, if you want me to do so, but _please_ …just give it the benefit of the doubt, okay ? If I'm wrong, I promise I'll never talk about it anymore.

Jethro furrowed both his brows and deeply gazed into Tony's eyes for a handful of seconds, as if to try analyzing him, overthinking, Ziva quietly watching the duet from her spot… He finally slowly exhaled and walked to his desk again, grabbing his phone.

— Abby ? _  
_

_— Yes, my Lord ?  
_

 _—_ I need you to take a look at somebody. _  
_

_— You're the boss..._


	15. Phone calls

— _What do you want, Tony…_

— Hey…McGee, he nervously sighed. How is everything going for you ?

— _What don't you just get to the point, Tony…  
_

— Okay…right. This call is non official, McGee, but we're kind of waiting for a confirmation about someone's face, and…

Tony briefly stopped and slowly thought of his strange explanation…Tim probably had no idea of what he could be talking about…  
Well, at least he was still at home, instead of turning crazy with them in the bullpen.

— There is a case we've been working on…he continued, Gibbs suddenly approaching Tony's desk, grabbing the phone from his hand.

— _Tony ?_

— McGee, Jethro asked without any greeting, did you take an appointment ?

He could perfectly hear him sigh on the other side.

— _I did, boss, but I'm pretty sure you already know that…_ Tim's voice suddenly turned a bit more suspicious.

— How did it go ? Did you plan another one ?

— _Why ?_ he bitterly questioned, _you don't think I'm getting better ?_

Gibbs briefly chuckled and pushed the item closer to his ear.

— Now I get my answer, he almost emotionlessly said, throwing the phone, in the end, onto Tony's desk.

The NCIS Agent strangely watched the now silent item, then Jethro reaching the elevator, usual coffee between hands...and finally spoke to Tim again.

— He's going to the lab, now.

— _I don't care, Tony…_

— Okay. Well...if we have the answer about our dead Marine, we'll soon go to the ship and meet these same men again, McGee.

— _Which ship, Tony, I don't understand anything of what you're saying…_

— Remember, it's the one with…he nervously stopped, overthinking, as previously. Why aren't you…he tried to pronounce. _Do you think…_ well, are you gonna come back at some point to NCIS, Tim ? he asked, in the end. _Tim…?_ he added after a handful of seconds, a discreet sound coming from the phone, interrupting the conversation.

Tony nervously rubbed his face and momentarily stared at the invisible, silently begging for some kind of a miracle.

— What's wrong, Dinozzo ? Ziva suddenly pronounced, your girlfriend just hung up on you ?

— _Yeah, David..._ he finally sighed with exasperation, she's kind of _stubborn_ , these days…  
— — — — — — — —

— _Tim…hey !_ Abby exclaimed, her tattooed fingers wrapped around her phone. How…how are you ?

— _Did you find what you were looking for ?  
_

— How do you know I…

Gibbs grabbed the item from Abby's hands and impatiently pressed it against his ear.

— McGee, what are you doing ?

— _Collecting infos…_ he simply, lowly said, although Gibbs could perfectly sense the despising tone of his voice.

— Tony'll tell you everything later, McGee, now we have work to do.

— _I did what you asked me to do, boss, and I told Director Vance about it, as well, so there's no need to wait anymore._

— Great, Gibbs neutrally commented, Abby still waiting by his side for Jethro to give her back her phone. So what's next, now ?

— _Now I would like some update,_ if you don't mind…Tim's voice suddenly turned louder than before, the sound of the elevator immediately making Abby leave her spot.

— _McGee…!_ she spoke from afar. You're back ! I know it wasn't for too long, but…

— Long enough for me, Tim briefly smiled, his previous facial expression instantly vanishing as Gibbs went out of the lab.

Gibbs didn't say a word at first, and only glanced at Tim with serious eyes, wondering if things would ever get better, one day…

— What are you waiting for ? he neutrally asked after some time, shaking his head in the working area's direction, Tim and Abby then silently following their boss inside the room.

— ...Anything new, Abbs ? Tim almost immediately questioned her, as if Jethro wasn't even with them.

— Okay, to make it quick : we were looking for cases you might have been involved with...and Tony, well…she stopped and sighed, noticing Gibbs' furrowed brows. Tony...thought one of the men we arrested about a year ago looked a lot like Prescott.

— Wait, you found him from a previous case ? _' And no one told me…'_ he would have certainly added…yeah, if he would have wanted to die. Someone from the family, then ? he begun speaking again without really listening to the last explanation, not getting any answer in return.

— Well, my dear computer friend has been checking in the system for quite a long time, now…there is no same last name, but Tony was insistent enough for letting me check, and I have to admit that the similarities… _yeah_ , I know what you think, Tim… _and what you think as well, Gibbs !_ she smiled. But… _oh, wait !_ Looks like we _finally_ have an answer… _yes !_

Abby quickly typed on her keypad and the trio then instantly watched the picture of the dead Marine, a non official one, this time, followed by other multiple informations next to it.

— Okay, she excitingly started shaking both hands. I guess we…

— We 'what', Abby ? both Tim and Gibbs said, at once, before politely ignoring each other.

— We can give a medal to Tony for the best eyes of NCIS ! she revealed a wide smile. Bryan Leavers, son of Lydia Leavers, _do have_ Simon Prescott as a biological father…

— And we did not know that ? Gibbs seriously questioned her.

— Looks...like Prescott refused to recognize his child at birth. Bryan kept his mother's last name, but tried...she kept reading, _yes_ , tried getting in touch with his father when he turned 18 and decided to join the Marines…

— How did it go ?

— They...seem to have been talking for quite some time, Gibbs, Abby continued analyzing the profile's infos.

— How do you know that, the male voice insisted, where is it written, Abbs ?

— _Nowhere_ , she smiled. But according to how insistent Prescott is, trying to kill McGee, I guess he must have intended bonding with his kid at some point, mustn't he ? I mean, to be _that_ affected by his death… _sorry, Tim_ , she bit both her lips.

Gibbs listened to that last sentence and begun walking out of the place, as expected, strong ideas in mind…

— So who's got the best contacts on earth, uh ? the female voice gently teased him, before letting him go.

— You, Abbs... _as always_ , Gibbs briefly smiled and turned back for a second, in order to kiss her cheek, finally heading to the door of the lab.

...Tim walked behind him and entered the elevator when both silver doors opened in front of them.  
He just hoped there wouldn't be more questions… If he had to be honest, he could feel he was some kind of mad again, knowing or not, and this, from time to time, the reason for that, but… Oh, whatever, he could manage things the best way possible…well, as long as there wouldn't be too much troubles with the others at NCIS.  
Gibbs quickly called Tony and told him to join them with Ziva in the parking lot, finally silently focusing on Tim again, after hanging up his call…

— So...where are we going, boss ? the agent forced his lips to open.

— Surprise appointment, McGee...

— Some people we already know, I guess ?

— Yes, McGee. So just try not to feel too nostalgic when we get there.

Tim rolled his eyes without even trying to hide it, this time, tired of Gibbs' emotionless umpteenth comments…before finally watching, a bit relieved, the doors open again, as if to free him from Hell, the two rectangles now inviting him to leave the building.  
He quickly glanced at Jethro, sighing…

— Nice man, by the way, that new agent in charge of my security...Tim unexpectedly added to the previous conversation. Oh, and I'm talking about the second one, you know...the one you hired behind my back, _remember ?_

Tim slowly walked away from Gibbs with a brief, but still existing despising smile, and headed in the parking lot's direction, thinking...  
 _Yeah_ , Gibbs could speak as much as he wants…he could not care less.


	16. Happy reunion

— _Man coming, David._

— I see that, Ziva squinted under the sun, staring at the one walking in their direction.

— Do we know him from last year ?

— I do not know, Tony…she seemed already bored, finally walking in the uniformed man's direction.

— Captain Alexander Manners, we met last year, any new update about the case ?

— Agent Ziva David, she introduced herself, and this is the Agent Tony Dinozzo. Unfortunately…yes and no, Captain Manners.

The man crossed both arms behind his back and took a strange look at the duet in front of him.

— My apologies if I sound a bit rude, Agent David, but why are you here, then ? It happened a year ago, now, and it already has been painful enough for my men…

— Well, we discovered the identity of your dead Marine's biological father, Bryan Leavers, and he's a wanted criminal.

— Follow me, please.

Captain Alexander Manners immediately begun walking in another direction, Tony and Ziva by his side.

— _I do not need you to save me, Tony,_ she whispered, I _was about to give him the infos…  
_

— _Yeah, right_ , he chuckled. _You completely waded, David.  
_

— _Why the hell are you talking about swimming, Tony, is that another of your stupid…  
_

— This way, please ?

Alexander Manners suddenly stopped in front of a door, inviting them to enter the room.

— Certainly, Ziva pronounced after a brief pause. Thank you, Captain.  
— — — — — — — —

…Tim stopped for a minute and pretended looking at the ship, breathing as much air as he could…  
That wasn't _that_ terrible…at least not as bad as it used to be. But he couldn't control it, as soon as he was standing in such a place, he had to feel, at least, that awful twist in his stomach, that bitterness inside his throat that wanted to make him sick.

— Everything alright, McGee ?

Tim suddenly left his thoughts and felt his blood pressure ready to create an explosion inside his body.

— I'm f… _Leo !_

— I thought I was dreaming, but that's you ! _Wow…_ he immediately added, noticing the pale face. Someone clearly doesn't like sea salt ! Marine Crammers teased him.

— Yeah, Tim briefly laughed at the comment, let's say we're getting better.

— _Good, good..._ Leonard smiled. _So_ , what brings NCIS here again ?

— That same case, Leo. We're looking for more infos about Marine Bryan Leavers.

— Oh...anything new about Bryan ?

Tim could see the concern and the sadness in his eyes, and almost regretted to have pronounced his name.  
' _Keep it professional, Tim_ ' he silently spoke to himself, knowing he wouldn't have minded that much any other emotional demonstration if it hadn't been coming from his friend.  
He sighed and stared at him.

— Someone seems to think that I was involved in the murder of Marine Bryan Leavers.

— Involved ? _How ?_ Leonard's face suddenly turned seriouser than before. That can't be possible, right ? he worriedly asked. Otherwise you wouldn't be talking to me in here, but in jail.

— I do not know, Leo…it's complicated. My name came up at some point in the case, and now someone is after me.

— _Wait, wait, McGee..._ what do you mean, by 'someone' is after you ?

— _I…_

Tim noticed Tony's arrival and interrupted his next sentence, waiting to know if there was anything new.

— _Leonard Crammers, from MIT ?_

— That's me, he smiled.

— Nice to meet you. _So…_ how was McGeek in school ? Tony revealed a large smile, shaking the opposite hand. Didn't ask you that, last time we've met.

— Young ! the Marine reflexively chuckled, Tim rolling his eyes after his teammate's previous comment.

At least Tony was using another nickname, so maybe that was the proof that he was back in the game…

— Tim was definitely one of the best, I'm not surprised he's now a NCIS agent. Well…maybe a little bit, after all. Don't take it wrong, but you're more the kind of guy I would have pictured behind a computer.

— _Like you can talk !_ the agent's voice sounded amused.

— Well, I'm sure he doesn't, do you, Timmy ? Tony kept teasing him.

— I'm still doing it, Tim briefly smiled. Among other things.

He happily sighed and suddenly grabbed his friend's arm between fingers, inviting him walking a few steps forward by his side, trying not to pay too much attention at the sea all around them...

— Hey, Leo…are you still good at hacking ?

— Interesting question, McGee ! Uh, legally…yes ! he smiled. They still ask me from time to time to work on different profiles, for different missions, but let's say I'm not doing bullshit anymore.

— University never heard of anything, did they ?

— I know, Tim, but, you see...I really wanted to be a Marine. Navy is okay with second chances, but there's no need to tempt fate with any new mistake, don't you think ?

Tim gently nodded, while Tony raised both his brows from afar, discreetly trying to listen to that new conversation...before finally noticing Ziva coming in their direction.

— Eavesdropping, Tony ?

— Just focusing…

— Gibbs is coming. He's talked with the first dozen of Marines present last year, McGee did the same with five more of them before heading outside, and with the Captain, plus the others we have asked questions to…well, seems like we've got everyone.

— Nope. Actually, there is one man who left the Navy about four months ago.

— _Really ?_

— Yes. Marine Gregory Lang, a voice spoke from behind. Dinozzo, I want you to get ready to visit him as soon as we're back. And if he's not home when you get there, I want his picture everywhere in the country.

— On it, boss. Speaking of which, I'll take a few more pictures of the place and I'll wait for you, then. Oh, and by the way, he added before leaving, 'eavesdropping' only works with _actual_ doors, David, not when you're right in front of the people.

Gibbs briefly chuckled and Ziva simply rolled her eyes without a look in his direction, now waiting for Jethro to give her something else to do.

— McGee, he suddenly said, approaching the two MIT friends. You're not paid to chat the whole day.

— Agent Gibbs, Tim momentarily hid his disdain, this is Marine Leonard Crammers, one of my friends, as you already know, but one of the best of his class, as well. Far be it from me to agree on that, but I have to say that he has some very good predispositions for…well, accessing different kind of systems.

— _Meaning ?_ Gibbs uselessly asked, although he wanted to know more about the details.

— Boss, neither Abby, nor myself, succeeded in finding where the profile had been created, we only knew when. So if someone can find out about that...he added after a pause, I think there's no one better than him.

Gibbs stood still for a dozen of seconds where he was, his eyes watching, in turn, Marine Leonard Crammers, then McGee…  
He finally neutrally nodded and took a quick look at Ziva.

— Alright, let's go. Ziva, you'll go with Tony at Lang's place.

Ziva nodded and begun walking away from the group, calling Tony's name.

— I'm gonna tell my Captain I am leaving with you, Leonard said. Won't be long.

Gibbs simply nodded and silently observed Tim as he moved a bit away from him, his agent taking new deep breathes and focusing on the sky again…yeah, Timothy McGee definitely couldn't have been a Marine.  
So how ironic was it to have found such a fake profile of him.

— _What's up, McGee ?_

Tim heavily sighed another time in front of the sea and thought of how ridiculous it was to hear something like this, especially from Gibbs' mouth.  
' _What's up, McGee ?_ ' he bitterly, silently repeated in his own head, thinking about the stupidity of that question...  
Really, if Gibbs wanted to talk, he only had to ask a normal question…or to not speak to him at all, in fact, because he clearly didn't want to have a chat right now.

— All is good, boss, he simply said in the end.

But Jethro suddenly joined his agent and took a look, himself, at the sky.

— Is it gonna be okay for you ? I know he's your friend, but…

— ...but I have to treat him like any other potential suspect. Yeah, I already know all of this. But he's gonna help us, right ? He's probably gonna stay with Abby in her lab, and not inside an interrogation room, so I guess there's no need to treat him like a suspect for now.

Tim saw Leonard miraculously come in their direction and then begun walking, himself, to what would be their future exit, secretly feeling like he had truly been saved by the gong, but Gibbs unexpectedly put a palm on his shoulder before he even had the chance doing so.

— What's wrong, boss ?

— I don't know. Are you happy with us, McGee ?

— What do you mean, Gibbs ? the agent sighed for the umpteenth time, trying to look away from him. Am I happy with all the lies, and this over-protection ?

— I mean : do you want to stay at NCIS, Tim ?

Tim thought about it for a second and sensed like he had obviously something to say, feeling his mouth open, as if ready to give an answer…  
But nothing came out of it in the end, and after a brief glance at his boss...he simply headed to the next transportation.


	17. Last three days

— Boss, let me go.

Tim couldn't stay away from Gibbs at this very moment. In fact, there was no possibility on earth for him to leave that place, until he was sure he could talk to the man he knew.

— You're not going anywhere, McGee. You stay behind that glass or you go home.

— 'Go home' ? Is...is that a joke ? Tim finally exclaimed, raising both nervous arms in the air. You want me to go back where criminals are gonna look for me first, with all these security guards around that I have no idea of ? Really, Gibbs, did all of you just decide, one day, that I wasn't worth it, that all I deserved was to watch people trying to destroy my life without doing anything ?

— We are here to protect you, and that's precisely because you _are_ worth it, McGee, that I don't want you to come inside this room !

— Oh, try me !

Tim's eyes turned red and full of rage, his arms and legs now moving at a furious pace, some untamable energy controlling his brain and body with invisible flammes.

— _McGee !_

Tony arrived from the other side of the corridor, now half running as he heard the noise all around, and pushed his palms against the opposite shoulders.

— Hey, McGee, stop...

— _Let me go !_

But Gibbs immediately joined the duet and pointed a finger at Tony.

— Don't let him go inside. Ziva, he added as well when she arrived, with me. _Now._

— Slow down, McGee, slow down…deep breaths, Tony lowly advised as soon as they were left alone in that same corridor, Tim moving his head away from him, eyes filled with tears. Come on, let's go out of here…

— _No, Tony_. I want to know what he has to say.

The agent watched Tim's eyes turn seriouser than ever. Yes...he guessed he could, at least, let him come to that room and face the truth. He deserved it.

— Alright, then, let's go...he said.

…Gibbs furrowed both his brows and remained silent for the longest minute ever, Ziva not daring speaking either, only wondering whether or not it might be part of some interrogation plan.

— Agent Gibbs, I do not understand. I didn't do anything wrong…

But Jethro didn't react yet, only staring at him with his so famous neutral facial expression, the man in front of him still nervously sitting in that quite obscure place, the sound of the numerous dim neon lights lowly vibrating all around…

— Who are you covering for, Marine Crammers ? Gibbs asked with the scariest calm on earth, his voice now slowly mixing with the ambient vibrations...

Tim silently watched the scene from the other room, Tony remaining as silent as Ziva from his own spot.

— _I am not c…_

— Then why did you do that, Leonard ?

— Listen, _I_ came to NCIS in order to help you, I was even working with someone from your team, but I already told you I couldn't find where the fake profile was coming from.

— That's true, Ziva unexpectedly begun speaking, you helped us _at first_.

— _At first ?_ he seemed offended.

— Yes, before you started corrupting data, she continued. Our expert noticed some changes in a line or two when she later took a new look at it.

— You cannot trust anyone, these days…Gibbs sighed.

— Oh, of course, she's not _as good_ as you when it comes to hacking a whole system, but don't you dare challenging anyone else to find small details like these like she does…

— Wait, before I what ? _Did..._ did you get in touch with the Marine who left the ship, four months ago ? he nervously asked. Maybe…

— He left the Navy in order to get married, Gibbs boringly explained. Now he's got full time to enjoy his life as a husband.

Leonard Crammers bit his lips before noticing Ziva, writing notes.

— Hey, what are you doing ?

— Nothing you need to worry about…just adding some charges to your record.

— _My_ …my record ?

— Hacking the Navy, creating a fake profile of a NCIS Agent…

— Not that bad, Ziva smiled.

— Wait, there is more…attempt of murder hand in hand with a criminal, serious accusation on a retired colleague…that's a lot, Gibbs emotionlessly chuckled.

— There must be a mistake…

— On the contrary, I don't think there is anything to add, Ziva stopped writing. In fact, we have everything to put you in jail for a very long time, so if you have nothing else to add...

— But I didn't do anything ! the tone of Leonard's voice turn louder than before.

Gibbs' hand suddenly hit the silver table of the interrogation room, and both Tim and Tony slightly jumped from behind the glass, a bit scared, but undoubtably curious.

— Then who are you covering for ! Gibbs shouted, opening the file in front of him, revealing a picture of Patrick, then other ones of McGee's numerous wounds due to the explosion.

The whole team suddenly begun overthinking, although no one ever showed any sign of it, all trying to focus on the accused…even Gibbs' face froze for a discreet second, and Tony sadly waited for Tim to join a world of painful memories to take a look at his teammate, sorry as hell.  
Patrick was dead, that was true…and they had all forgotten it. _All, except McGee.  
_ Of course he hadn't been anyone's dearest friend, nor a family member of the team, but he was someone they had met for years, from time to time, in and out that same building, he was someone McGee was talking to, after late nights of work…and more than anything, he was the man who had exploded right in front of him, pulling the handle of his car, unconsciously saving his life...  
Gibbs briefly looked through the tinted glass, silently sorry.

— _McGee, I…_

— _Funerals were nice, Tony. I went with Abby_ , Tim calmly said, eyes still watching the scene with deep attention.

He could feel it in his heart. There was something wrong, and he hoped he was right about it...  
Ziva now deeply gazed into Crammers' eyes, looking for an answer.

— Who made changes to that line, then, Leonard ? Was it y _ou ?_ Your Captain ? Maybe one of your colleagues ?

— Listen, they're all family, to me, why I am telling you, this _has_ to be a mistake…

— _Hey, McGee…!  
_

No one else, but Tim, could have heard these few words, when Tony pronounced them on the other side of the glass, but soon they would know that he had tried to escape, the sound of the door's opening interrupting anything else going on in that interrogation room.

— McGee, what are you doing here ? Ziva asked _the_ question, Gibbs silently close to an internal explosion.

— _Tim...!_ Leonard begun speaking, ready to be saved.

— Please, Gibbs, Tim stayed still near the entrance. I only need five minutes...he almost robotically spoke.

Jethro and Ziva strangely stood up from their seats after a pause, as if to retort anything to him, or probably kick him out...but they unexpectedly headed out of the interrogation room after a signal from Gibbs, Tim not believing his eyes, already hearing Tony's apologies from the corridor…until they closed the door.  
The neon lights of the place begun vibrating again, and Leonard then watched his friend, or at least the one who _used to be_ his friend, with really worried eyes.

— You keep saying that it must have been a mistake.

— _I know, I really…_

— What _I_ know, Leo, he didn't care listening, is that you probably already have the answer I need, and that's why you pretended not finding the source of the computer which created that fake ID…

— Tim, believe me when I tell you that this _has_ to be a mistake…

But Tim didn't say anything else and only moved a bit forward to start, deeply staring at the Marine, momentarily remembering memories of that great friendship they used to share…  
And he begun speaking again with that same strange, calm voice, briefly touching pages of the file between his hands, although Leonard could see that he was about to make a promise.

— _Tim...  
_

 _—_ My name is Agent Timothy McGee.

— I...

Tim unconsciously tightened his grip around the file and finally pressed both fists on top of the table.

— I'm gonna make it quick, he sighed and sat down, Crammers pitifully willing to work things out. Did you voluntarily participate anyhow to any plan aimed at killing me ? he questioned the Marine without a look.

— _No_ , Tim, of course not ! I even went to NCIS, the other day, in order to help you, _I wanted…_

— Then I give you one last chance to tell me his name, Leonard, he continued. You have a perfectly clear criminal record, he slowly pronounced, just get yourself a lawyer, and I promise you'll never get any trouble.

— _Boss, what is he doing..._ Tony asked from the other side of the glass.

— _He doesn't want justice ?_ Ziva commented as well.

Gibbs heavily breathed in and out, before neutrally answering.

— _He lays his cards on the table..._

...Marine Leonard Crammers gazed into Tim's eyes with a desperate face, knowing deep down that the name was about to come out at some point, that he deserved to know…that this could not be true...  
He only wanted to leave that room.

— _How…_ he suddenly nervously begun asking.

— How _what_ , Leo ? Tim questioned him with that same scary, calm tone of voice.

— _He's..._ he's always been like a father to me, I cannot believe...really, there's no way he could have…

— What do you want, Leo ?

Marine Crammers took a deep breath and seemed to silently be sharing these same memories as well, the previous years of friendship now killing his heart, that dark feeling of guiltiness bitterly burning his tongue, begging for the truth…

— _How..._ he hesitated _._ How can I know you're gonna keep that promise ? he now turned very nervous. Tim, being a Marine is all my life, I'm sure you understand that feeling…he finally lowly admitted, shiny eyes looking at McGee.

— You want a proof, that's what you need ? the agent strangely nodded to himself, before walking to the angle of the room.

Tim simply watched the red dot of the item for a handful of seconds, small circle still flashing...  
He didn't know it for now, but he was scaring them all to death.

— Is this camera on ? he asked the invisible.

Gibbs knew he now had to follow his gut, and immediately ran from a door to another, leaving his new spectator's place, sensing the inevitable coming…  
But as he pressed the handle of that silver rectangle, McGee raised a fist next to Leonard's head and reflexively punched the Marine in front of him.

— _McGee !_ Jethro almost shouted, grabbing his agent's arm.

But Tim didn't even try moving after that, nor retorting anything in return, only waiting for the real answer he had asked for, watching Marine Leonard Crammers get rid of the blood coming out of his nostrils.

— I'm fine...the accused refused the help, when Jethro reluctantly raised a hand next to him.

— He's fine, McGee repeated, patiently waiting.

Leonard clumsily pressed a forearm onto the floor, feeling a bit dizzy.

— _The…_ the profile was coming from…he finally exhaled with difficulty. _I..._ I deleted the result afterwards, Tim, but it…do not hate me, he said, taking a deep breath. It was coming from…from Captain Alexander Manners' computer.

Tim suddenly seemed to momentarily be assimilating the information, and finally simply nodded after such a scene, slowly getting rid of Gibbs' weaker grip, emotionlessly staring at the one who, once, used to be his friend…  
He then briefly smiled, as if to be polite, and moved in the open door's direction, now facing Tony and Ziva...

— Thank you, Leonard, he said.

And on that note, he left the room.


	18. I need some air

— McGee, you alright ? Tony nervously asked, unable to know if he should be mad, or worried.

— I'm fine, Tony, Tim's voice lowly answered, although it seemed obvious that he was _not_ feeling very well.

Tim didn't listen, nor cared about anyone, and quickly headed in the elevator's direction, tired eyes looking straight on, body parts walking without any real consent, only obeying to that pace they were strangely subjected to…

— _Agents are already on their way to the ship, Agent Gibbs_ , Director Vance's voice resonated from afar. _MTAC, right now…_

Gibbs then immediately sent a signal to Tony, silently ordering him to follow Tim.

— Hey, McGee…his agent run after his teammate, trying reaching the elevator before him.

— Please, Tony, Tim suddenly turned back and faced him near the silver entrance, trying to control his reactions. Just…leave me alone, alright ? he finally added, raising both palms in front of him, as if to say 'stop'.

— Tim…

— _Please_ , Tony…McGee insisted, but tried not to beg, sensing deep down that he truly _needed_ to be left alone.

Both silver doors suddenly opened and Tim entered the space in quite a hurry, Tony watching him, completely powerless…  
If only there was something right that he could say…

— _Agent Dinozzo, what are you still doing here ?_ that same voice spoke again from upstairs. _MTAC meeting. Now._

— Sure…Director.

Tony didn't know if Leon Vance had really seen Tim, or if he had pretended _not_ to see him, but here he was for now, at this very moment…alone in that bullpen, and…

— _Agent Dinozzo !_ the voice ordered.

— Coming, Director.

The time for him to think about this unbelievable situation, both rectangles were already closed, and McGee had already vanished from his sight…

…Tim headed out of the building without a clear mind, some strange ultrasound piercing one of his eardrum, as if to keep him away from the real world.

— _Ah, hello Timothy, long time, no see…_ Ducky brusquely appeared from nowhere, hat in one hand, the sight of his silhouette, although, not stopping Tim's tense walk. Timothy ? _Timothy_ , he insisted, are you alright ?

Tim slowed down a bit as someone finally grabbed his arm without warning, but didn't really notice it at first, Ducky's concerned face not especially getting his attention.  
Yes, he was mostly looking down, in fact, some blurry veil covering his eyes…he deeply sighed at his own forced immobilization and did not realized how seriously he was now struggling with his breathing...  
There were too many things to work out, he thought, too many… _complications_. Patrick dead, a bomb…the funerals, and that heavy burden to carry, himself watching the one who had died instead of him, facing the family with Abby…one of his old friend ready to lie in order to cover for someone else… _more_ _people dying._ And all these other people around, as well, here to protect what used to be a safe place… _his place._ If only…had he ever been ready for that ?  
 _What if…_

— Timothy, hey…why don't you take a look at me, lad ?

— _I c…_ I'm sorry, Duck, Tim kept breathing with difficulty, I just…

The worried ME could see the eyes of the agent turn shinier than before, and not for the good reasons…yes, the man he was seeing in front of him was definitely not what anyone should be expecting from Tim…he didn't look happy at all. Only broken, and exhausted.

— What's wrong, Timothy…he insisted, trying to make him talk and sit on a bench, nearby.

But Tim couldn't help, but stay the way he was, his body too tense to even think of resting…but still too overwhelmed to keep a normal, straight position.  
Ducky noticed the newly slightly shaking hands and simply grabbed them between his warm, old ones, giving as much comfort as possible.

— _I c…_ I'm sorry Ducky, but…

— Sorry about what, Timothy ? There's nothing to be sorry about, young lad…

— I _can't…_ I can't breath…Tim suddenly desperately exhaled, as if finally sharing his deepest secret of the moment, Ducky helping him sit in the end on that same bench.

— Here, here, Timothy…

— _I c…_ I can't keep working in here, Ducky, I'm…

— What are you, Timothy ? the ME gently asked, slowly stroking Tim's back.

McGee tried saying something, but the words weren't coming the way he wanted, as if both rage and despair were fighting against each other under his skin, each feeling enduring an inside battle in order to stop him from speaking…

Tim felt his head naturally fall onto his knees, his palms touching his now humid hair before hiding behind his neck…

— You do need a break, Timothy…and this is more than a necessity.

— I don't know what I _need_ , Ducky…

— Well, at least let me give you a ride for now, young lad. Then if there is any new debate to have in the future about your plans of career, it will have to wait for you to get some sleep, first.

— Ducky, I…

— 'I do completely agree with you', uh ? That is what you were about to say ? he smiled…  
— — — — — — — —

( _A day before the arrest…_ )

— Is McGee still home ?

— He is, my dear Ziva, Ducky took off his hat and greeted the whole team in the bullpen. Abby and myself have been visiting him yesterday, and I do believe, or _hope_ , at least, that he is taking some time off. _Finally he did_ , the ME nodded, Gibbs suddenly coming out of the elevator. _Ah, Jethro…_ he added, walking in his direction.

— You needed something, Duck ?

— Well, no, he smiled. I only wanted to say hello.

Gibbs nodded and seemed to be ready to leave his actual spot, but an old grip softly stopped him from moving.

— Is that all, Jethro ? Not even a neutral, emotionless 'How is he' ?

Gibbs sighed and furrowed both his brows, looking at Ducky.

— How is he ? he asked.

— In need of some holidays, Jethro, if not a bit of a therapy as well, he briefly smiled. Well, I do believe that each of your agents in here is in need of a therapy, but this time, especially, seems to be a very hard one for Timothy.

— He's gonna get over it.

— Well, Ducky bit both his lips, the important thing is not to know if he is gonna get over it, but if you are gonna _help_ him getting better, Jethro…

Gibbs seemed to be thinking about it for a minute, when the ME put a palm on his shoulder, now, himself, ready to leave.

— Children are precious, Jethro, but they do need patience from the ones who love them…  
— — — — — — — —

( _Twelve hours before the arrest..._ )

…Tim uselessly stared at his unused typewriter, his phone still sticking to his ear.

— _Are you sure you want to know, Tim ? I know you're finally taking a break, and I wouldn't want…_

— It's okay, Abby. I do not feel like coming back for now, he discreetly grinned, knowing Vance wouldn't let him come back anyway after such a scene, but I still want to be updated. _And only from you._

He thought back of what had happened in that room…the sadness he had felt, and the wonderful adrenaline he had enjoyed, at the same time, after all these dramatic events…yes, for the first time since the beginning of the case, _he_ had truly decided to take a break, even Ducky hadn't forced him taking that decision…but it was better anyway, right, and everybody at NCIS would agree on that momentary departure. Maybe it was easy talking to Abby. Of course, she had been present for him, especially during the funerals, but she wasn't a field agent on that case, and that was definitely helping.

— _Timmy ? You're still here ?  
_

— I'm here, _sorry_ , Abby.

— _So_ , she started, Tim perfectly hearing her fingers turning the pages of a file, some others typing a few words, from time to time, on that distant keypad of hers, _nothing exceptional, as you expected it, in fact…Captain Alexander Manners created that fake profile of yours in order to get out of troubles, and put the attention on someone else. I thought Linkers was very smart…_ she excitingly begun her next sentence before controlling herself, _but Manners had nothing to envy to anyone. He created a whole different life behind your back, he made of you an 'online' deserter of the ship, if I can say…he needed someone who was not actually a Marine, then it would be impossible to find out about y…  
_

— Nothing is impossible, Abby, Tim sighed.

— _You have done nothing wrong, Timmy_ , her voice tried comforting him, _if you wouldn't have been there, it would have been anyone else...but_ _you've just been the perfect opportunity… When you went on that ship a year ago, and when he realized you were friend with Crammers, he thought you were the person he was miraculously waiting for…a young agent coming from MIT, friend with someone with the same computing abilities, both of you being perfect targets to accuse, if necessary, right ? Moreover, you were friend with an experienced Marine who was obeying his every move… Manners was in touch with really bad people, Timmy, and Leavers caught him doing so, he was about to report him, but…  
_

— But he didn't manage. People died because of me, Abby…

— _No, Timmy ! Prescott was driven by rage, and…even if I'd love to face him and kill him right now, truth is that he only attacked the wrong people in order to know more about you.  
_

— So what ? Prescott has only been manipulated ? He probably didn't understand anything, himself, finding me at NCIS, when…

— _Whatever, Timmy. You could have had a second identity, or he could have thought someone had lied to him about your job, thing is that Prescott decided not to let justice do its part. He might have been a victim at first, he was the one making the choice of revenge. We're not talking about threats, McGee, but murder._

Tim rubbed his chin with desperation. What would he have done, himself, if he, once, had had a son…could murder be forgiven when it was done for such a cause ?  
Now he was almost feeling bad for that man... He sighed and took a look at the window...  
 _He needed some air._

— Will Prescott know the truth ? he finally asked her, taking a deep breath.

— _He'll do, Timmy. As soon as they will get the official reports and testimony from Manners, the world will know about who was Bryan Leavers' murderer. It's almost over, Tim, I promise… Hey,_ she shyly added after a pause, _are you sure you don't want me to come ?  
_

— No, Abby, I…he heavily sighed. I don't even believe I'm actually saying it, but I think, now, that I would really love to be kept away from NCIS, at least for tonight.

She could definitely hear the obvious 'Tim's feeling of guiltiness' in his voice...indeed, he was the one who had asked her for an update, and now that he knew everything, he wanted to be left alone…

— _A lot to process, uh ?_ she chuckled. _Tim…_ she finally continued speaking without waiting for an answer, the agent perfectly sensing her sadness, do you still hate Gibbs ?

— Abby…he felt the air missing again inside his lungs, truly tired and impatient to hang up. Listen, _I…_ I talk to you later, alright ?

And the NCIS agent ended the conversation after barely hearing Abby's goodbye, immediately running into the bathroom, splashing fresh water on his face, his wet hands now grabbing the contours of the sink…he uselessly stared at the water flowing out of the tap, standing still for a couple of minutes, wondering what he was doing, and what he would soon be deciding about his life…when his phone ran again in the other room. Tim first took a look at the item, silently questioning himself if he should be answering it, or not…  
He finally briefly dried his hands and walked a few steps forward, reluctantly grabbing the phone between his still wet fingers.

— Abby, he tried to be polite, don't take it wrong, but I really need to…

— _Agent McGee ?_ a calm voice suddenly talked to him. _Or maybe should I say 'Marine McGee' ? My apologies, but you're quite hard to find.  
_

Tim felt a chill pass through his body, unable to recognize the voice, but smart enough to know who it must belong to…

— This is a mistake, Prescott, he tried to explain, I…

— _I'm not here to talk, Tim_ , the man boringly interrupted him. _Now I just want to know why you've killed my son, and we're gonna start this right now...  
_

Tim immediately dropped the phone and instantly ran into his bedroom, looking for his gun, but something violently hit his head when he had not expected it, and he then fell motionlessly onto the wooden floor of his apartment…facing a world of obscurity.


	19. McGee's last moments

– Do you know where is Tim ? the woman asked with concern as he entered her lab, although Gibbs could see that it was more than necessary.

– Is that why you called me, Abby ? he groaned. McGee is taking some time off, and we still have work to do !

– _I know_ , Gibbs, but there is something that I wanted to ask you first !

Gibbs took a look at the screen behind her and noticed the small red dot moving on it, flashing in the middle of nowhere.

– What is this, Abbs, did you find Prescott ?

– _Nope..._ she shyly answered.

– Then what are you working on ?

Abby begun staring at Gibbs for a handful of seconds, revealing a more intense puppy face than usual, looking guilty, as if she had done something wrong...  
The strange gothic pair of platforms suddenly walked a few steps forward in his direction, and Gibbs instantly felt both opposite tattooed hands grab his own.

– Don't be mad, okay ? she almost begged.

– What is going on, Abby !

– Well, I was so worried about Tim, with everything happening in his life, these days, that I might have done something...well, I only did it because...

– You might have 'what' ? Gibbs turned impatient.

–...have put a tracker in his jacket's pocket ? she finally admitted, her answer sounding more like a question. I didn't want to check, I promise I was even about to step back, but it seemed like I couldn't resist t...

Gibbs furrowed both his brows and Abby then reflexively tried forcing a smile, secretly praying for not being killed.

– _Abby..._ he sighed.

– _I know, I know...!_ But come on, Gibbs, I was _so_ worried for Tim, then when I visited him, I... _anyway_ , I asked you to come now, because I would like to have your permission to trace McGee's phone. Thing is that I've just found his jacket located in a very unusual place, and I thought, at first, that he might have forgotten it there, or maybe that someone could have stolen it and brought it here, I don't know, but... Listen, I know that it sounds completely stupid, that's probably my way to try not freaking out too much, she added, Gibbs not understanding a word of what she was saying, but that's why I would like to trace his phone...only to check if everything is alright, she smiled, not really trusting her own strange explanation.

Gibbs begun walking to Abby's computer, but she stopped him before he could even take a look at that same red dot, waiting first for an answer.

– Are you mad ? You're mad, I'm sure, I can see it in your eyes, Abby childishly begun agitating her hands, her black ponytails flying under her nervous movement.

Jethro sighed and tried thinking about it for a minute, watching Abby progressively turn crazy in front of him...  
Well, if McGee had no reason to be in danger for now, he thought, that would still be comforting to be sure that he was safe. And if that wasn't especially for him, Abby would still feel better after confirmation...  
He sighed and waved a palm in her direction, symbol of his reluctant agreement.

– Alright, Abby, you can tr...

( _Ding..._ )

Gibbs briefly froze for a second, before angrily noticing the signal coming from the screen, now seriously gazing into Abby's eyes.

– _Oops...?_ she nervously reacted, hunching her back, now fully ready to be punished, if necessary. Well, _okay_ , I'm sorry, Gibbs, but...but try to understand me, if I had waited for you to give me your approval, I would still be standing here for hours, looking for the results ! Tracing someone is a _very_ long thing to do, you know ! Of course, it would be so much easier if it was allowed to directly put a tracker in everyone's phone, but...Abby suddenly interrupted her speech, noticing Gibbs' terrible glance.

–...but you're completely right ! _Yes_ , this is a very, _very_ bad thing to do ! _Uh, so..._ she finally focused on her keypad, quickly typing a few words, _the...the results._

Gibbs now completely approached Abby's current spot and begun looking at all the open tabs on her computer, the woman's smile suddenly vanishing from her face as she noticed what she hadn't wished, herself, to ever suspect.

– What's wrong, Abby ? Gibbs tried asking calmly.

– _Okay_ , she worriedly spoke, I _know_ that wasn't cool, like _not at all_ , to intrude McGee's life, but I think we might have a serious problem, right now.

Abby briefly faced Jethro and reflexively pointed a finger at different angles of her screen, not minding if he was understanding any of this.

– I might be missing something, _okay_ , but can you tell me then _why_ Tim's phone is nicely staying at his apartment, while his jacket is located completely far away from it, like...

– _How far ?_ Jethro didn't let her finish.

–...like in an abandoned warehouse, Gibbs !

Gibbs immediately started heading out of the lab, ordering Abby to send him the address she had just found, and took his phone out of his pocket, dialling his other agent's number.

– _Tony._

– You and Ziva, go to McGee's place ! If he's not there, you'll join me at the address Abby has sent you.

– _Okay, boss_ , Tony said without asking for any details, grabbing his badge and gun, heading with Ziva to the elevator. _Anything else ?_ he added.

– Yes. _Stay alive_ , Gibbs dryly answered, before hanging up the phone...  
– – – – – – – –

( _Fifteen minutes..._ )

...Tim slowly opened his eyes and blinked way more than necessary, trying to figure out where the hell he could now be, or at leat to remember the last memory he would have in mind...the place around him seemed to be larger enough to gather a dozen of cars, if not more...it didn't look like a garage at all, and he knew there might probably be some other spaces available, but for a reason he couldn't explain, he had though of a garage.  
Maybe because all in here was reminding him of that place he once used to go to, when his parent's vehicle needed to be fixed...

' _Why am I even thinking of this when I should be worried about so much more ?_ ' he silently asked himself, not understanding why it was seeming so natural to let his mind explain every single detail concerning what he could hear, feel, sense, or see...

– _McGee...?_

Tim heard the strange voice resonate from afar but only closed his eyes, slowly whispering ' _I'm here_ ', right after something, or someone, had painfully hurt him in the stomach, his breathing accelerating now with no explainable reason, providing him, at once, brief adrenaline and stress, new dizziness and still, an unusual feeling of soft bliss...

– _I do not know how you managed to be found, Timothy McGee, but your friends won't do more than give you a ride to the graveyard. You had your chances telling me your reasons for having killed my son, but you preferred lying, and putting the blame on someone else. You coward_ , the voice kept whispering in his ear, _now is time for you to join a world of endless sleepiness, and my turn to tell the world about what you've done to an innocent young man...let me just have some fun for a little while, the time for everything, well, you know...to process._

Tim blinked again and half watched the shadow of someone running in a direction, perfectly hearing his own, quicker, deep breathes, trying to remember what had happened since the last fifteen minutes, numerous body parts hurting him after the different blows he might have received.  
He shook his head with difficulty, new headache about to show up, and got himself ready to move, when he realized both his hands were tied up.  
He uselessly begun agitating his arms, willing to get out of here, and finally managed speaking again.

– T...Tony, he painfully exhaled, I'm h...I'm here !

But some gunshots were already being fired somewhere else, and the additional nervous footsteps of the different members of the team walking in their direction were now keeping him away from being heard.

– _Prescott, it's over...!_

– _Boss, this way..._

 _– Gibbs...?_

– _Tony, find McGee..._

...Tim finally noticed the new shape coming his way, recognizing the one who used to call him 'probie', a worried expression written on his face...

– Hey, McGee...Tony immediately begun untying his teammate's hands, noticing the few bruises on his face.

– It's...nothing, Tim strangely articulated, looking for some air. Did...did that son of a bitch manage to get out of the way ? he asked as well and strangely breathed in and out another time, that same adrenaline now coming again to his head.

Tony briefly stared at him with wide open eyes.

– _Wow_ , he finally said, you must be pretty pissed off, McGee, to ask me something of that kind...

– Because I decided to be polite all my life doesn't mean I do not know the bad words, Tony...Tim sighed and quickly rubbed his wrists.

– _Okay..._ Tony hesitated. Well, I guess, or _hope_ , that Gibbs and Ziva did find him, because the place is quite huge in here. But Prescott mostly fired against the wall, so two possibilities, he said, raising an arm in Tim's direction, helping him standing up, he might be as well very bad at shooting, or he just really didn't want us to find you and simply enjoyed the game... _you okay, Timmy ?_ You look strange.

– I've just been kidnapped, Tony, of course I look 'strange'. Wait, is it my gun ? Give it to me.

– You sure ? he hesitated. Okay, here you go. I thought you might need it... _McKidnap_ , he gently teased him and smiled. But wait...he stopped before McGee could take the weapon from his hands, put that on you as well, would you ?

Tony reflexively gave Tim his own bulletproof jacket, seriously insisting after Tim's expected resisting arrest, noticing, in the end, the opposite groan when the material touched his stomach.

– Listen, we've locked every exits for now, so that he cannot get out... _McGee_ , are you sure this is a good idea ?

– Tony, _less talking..._ Tim agitated both hands. Now give it to me.

– Okay...I get it. You want the bad guy ? Alright. But promise to be careful, he stopped before giving Tim his gun back. Only do your job if we find him. Justice will do the rest.

– Yeah, _you wish_ , Tim disdainfully reacted again, now half following Tony's instructions in order to join Gibbs and Ziva, feeling dizzier than before since he had stood up...

Yes, maybe that was only a male, ego thing, to not really appreciate being saved and looking weaker than the others, thinking that justice would never do enough to fix what had been carelessly destroyed for so long...but that was how it was. Yes, ego or not, Tim felt that boundaries were slowly vanishing from his mind, that keeping reactions inside were only making him feel worst...and now he was getting impatient.  
Indeed, after hours of half forced sleep under the blows and waiting in that strange place, he had the unpleasant sensation that the temperature had gotten higher than before, nervously tapping his fingertips against the bulletproof jacket...and something was slightly painful in his neck, now that he was thinking about it, as if some spider had just bitten a corner of it...

 _But after all...that was probably nothing._


	20. Death can be good, sometimes

( _Present..._ )

– Why is he not reacting ? Gibbs felt like he was turning crazy, watching Ziva's hands over Tim's chest.

– I'm doing what I can ! she almost shouted with distress, few drops of sweat now making her forehead shinier.

– Hold on, McGee, ambulance is on its way.

Jethro let Ziva proceed a few seconds more before switching positions with her, now giving her some rest. He couldn't believe it. That could _not_ be happening.  
He tried not thinking about his agent potentially dying, that simple possibility killing him to the bone...yes, until the end, he had kept having rancour against him, even with that drug inside him, even with that ambient nervousness due to all these things...  
McGee had been kidnapped and drugged, for sure, but still...his last words had been used to reveal the truth he had kept inside his heart and insult him, and all he had himself thought about had been to threaten him to be fired...  
Gibbs kept pressing both hands onto McGee's chest, counting numbers in his head, trying to get rid of any other thoughts...  
 _No._ That couldn't be, and that _wouldn't_ be the last words they would say to each other.

– _Boss, they're here !_ Tony finally shouted from his spot after some time, deeply hoping that they would save McGee.

After all, the other dead Marines hadn't been found right after they'd been poisoned. So maybe it wasn't too late for Tim...  
Gibbs, who had just been replaced by Ziva again, watched the men approach his agent, reluctantly letting them quickly take him away from him...he shook a head in the woman's direction, Ziva silently nodding before joining Tony.  
He would thank her later, now Tim was the most important.

– I'm coming with you, he said without waiting for any agreement, only entering the back of the ambulance when McGee got completely put inside.

Gibbs sat and worriedly stared at his agent. Tim was so pale, and strangely, slightly shaking now...he stared at the men next to him, wondering what they could be doing on him and if that would really work...he rubbed his face and took a deep breath, discreetly clenching his fist between his legs...  
He was Gibbs, he couldn't let himself be so affected, he couldn't fa...  
He tried leaving his own thoughts again and focused deeper than before on Tim's weak silhouette, any last trace of feelings now vanishing from his blue eyes. They would do anything possible, right, they would _save_ McGee. And if they couldn't...  
Gibbs rubbed his neck and hated himself for overthinking. So he quickly cleared his throat and focused on Tim again.

– How is he doing ? he asked.

– What's your name, Sir ?

– Special Agent Gibbs.

– Well, Special Agent Gibbs, the situation is bad, I'm not sure if he'll make it. We've just gave him a product in order to get rid of the poison which has infiltrated his body, but he's not reacting as expected. Agent Gibbs, he added, this time, not caring about any specific grade title, I'm sorry, but the substance itself and its dosage might be too strong for what we have. But we're doing our best, we're not giving up as long as he isn't either, the man smiled and jumped a little as the vehicle bumped onto the road, and we'll soon be at the hospital anyway.

– He'll make it, Jethro almost talked to himself first, before gazing into the opposite eyes. _He'll make it_ , he said louder, this time...  
– – – – – – – –

– _Agent Gibbs ?_

– Yes, he immediately answered, watching the white outfit come his way.

– We've done everything we could for Agent McGee, but...

Gibbs felt as if the air had just left both his lungs, a wave of memories now invading his mind and blurring his view, but he didn't show any of his reactions to the doctor in front of him.

– Is he...

The medical professional seriously took a look at Jethro, slowly placing his notepad inside his large pocket.

– He's not, Agent Gibbs, but his status is critical. As I was about to say, we have now done everything we could. We are checking on him regularly, but there is unfortunately nothing else we can do at the very moment. Now the question is to know if he's gonna wake up and react to the treatment he's just received. The poison and its dosage were strong, but as usual, it needs some time to completely penetrate. Good new is that we had him in here before it was too late, but now it is only up to your agent.

Gibbs couldn't help, but feeling a bit relieved at the new, although he reacted exactly the same as before, not showing anything to anyone, pretending all was fine...or at least, not discussable.

– You can go and stay with him in that room, but I prefer to warn you that he might n...

– He's gonna be fine, Gibbs pronounced without caring about his opinion, only waiting for the man to tell him the number of the room.

The doctor didn't try fighting against him and only gently smiled at him, raising a palm in one direction. Gibbs wasn't, and wouldn't be the last patient's close friend with an incredible hope.

– Take that corridor, then it'll be the first door on your left...  
– – – – – – – –

...Gibbs entered the hospital room slower than he had expected, apprehension driving his steps, incomprehension killing his brain...the situation was almost pathetic, when he was thinking about it. It had just come from nothing, only because a man had decided to cover his tracks, to use a name he had just found, as if it was some kind of lottery of life... They had all survived so many things, they had fought against people who had a 'real' reason, if he could put it that way, to try killing them...yes, McGee had survived so many times, and it was sometimes sad to say that it had even become quite a routine thing...and now he was here, unconsciously struggling to stay alive on that hospital bed.  
Gibbs wrapped a hand around a chair and approached it near Tim. If he was more used to be the one, standing in the corner, it seemed more natural, this time, to put himself closer. Maybe it was because of all the scary tubes and wires around McGee, or because he knew he was alone for now, out of NCIS, and didn't need to be strong for everyone...yes, for one of the rarest times of his life, Gibbs was asking himself questions he wasn't sure he could answer, and all he knew for now was that life had never been so unfair.  
He moved his head a bit forward, wondering if he should say something...they were always saying it was good talking to unconscious patients, but was it truly necessary ? He briefly thought about Prescott and about how hard he would treat him for what he'd done. ' _Prescott is mine_ ' he thought.

– Come on, McGee, the words suddenly left his mouth, you survived an explosion and now you're gonna lay down your weapons just because of some poison ? You're better than that, Tim, aren't you.

Gibbs wrapped his hands on both sides of the chair, such a vision of Tim freezing him to the bone...he needed to fight. He _had_ to fight.

– I did not allow you to die, McGee, the words slowly escaped for the second time, Gibbs' mouth now closer to Tim's ear.

But the body wasn't reacting to any of what he was saying, and that damn sound was still regularly coming out of the monitor, his agent's deep breathing only resonating into space because he was helped doing so. Jethro rubbed his face with a new tense movement, some hidden impatience now getting on his nerves, his mind still trying to realize what was really in front of him, _who_ was really in front of him...

– _Do not die, Tim..._

And for the first time since he had entered, he truly had chosen the words, decided to let them out...  
He sighed and tried finding a more comfortable body position onto his chair, knowing there'd be no one to chase him from here, as long as there weren't any emergency...  
He had been reluctantly listening, since an hour or two, to that same regular beep, annoying sound coming from the monitor, his tired eyes finally ready to join darkness, when the now quite faraway melody playing in his head begun turning slightly different than before...Gibbs couldn't help but think about the countdown of a bomb, and he had no idea if he would enjoy that new dream.  
Jethro suddenly blinked and took a look in front of him, momentarily wondering where he could be. He then blinked a few times more and felt like his heart was about to stop when he realized he had not been dreaming at all...no, truth was that McGee's breathing and energy were getting low, what was insanely exciting the machine.  
 _Truth was that McGee was now dying._

– H...help ! Gibbs almost immediately shouted, although a medical team was already on its way, a nurse in the middle neutrally pronouncing ' _Code Blue_ ', people pushing him out of the way...

– Sir, you're gonna have to leave now, someone told him, but he didn't care about her face, nor who she was.

– _Wait !_ he suddenly said, opposite arms still inviting him to stay away. _McGee, don't chose the easy way ! McGee !_ he tried speaking again, pointing a finger at the body, same arms now almost pushing him outside the room, _I forbid you to die, do you hear me...and that's an order !_

...Someone finally managed to close the large, sliding door, Jethro almost punching the glass with his palm, feeling powerless...  
He desperately rubbed his face and ended watching the awful scene from his new outside spot, the previous crazy beep inside the room suddenly turning into a long, regular note, Gibbs noticing the monitor drawing a straight line along the screen, small previous irregular triangles now completely vanishing from the rectangle.


	21. Life must go on

– Good morning.

– 'Morning.

– How do you feel, this morning, Agent McGee ?

– Like a bear after hibernating...? he weakly smiled.

The woman briefly chuckled as she checked his pulse, Tim taking a look at that same ugly room.

– Did I...sleep the whole time ?

– No, Agent McGee, your friends had been visiting you quite regularly, but they never stayed long, you were basically not really able to keep yourself awake, that's probably why you have vague memories about these visits.

\- If none at all...

\- Well, it had to be expected. It's been a long journey for you, Agent McGee.

– _I guess so..._

Tim momentarily stared a the ceiling, sadly aware of the emptiness it was inspiring him, then at the small window in the corner.  
 _Freedom_...he hoped he'd soon deserve it again.

– I can come with you if you want to breathe some fresh air outside, or you can even wait for someone from your team to go for a walk with you. I'm sure they'll be happy to help.

– No, Tim quite reflexively answered. It is fine going with you. They must be pretty busy anyway.

– Alright, then, she smiled. Let's get you some breakfast, first, and I'll come back later.

Tim nodded and silently let the woman leave the room, watching the light coming from outside, wondering if the temperature would be nice...he always loved mornings, especially at this time of the year.

– _Knock, knock_...a hand finally showed up after some time, revealing Tony's body near the door.

– Hi, Tony, Tim lowly greeted him, although Tony didn't know if it was due to his physical state, or if he was not really happy about the visit.

– Do I bother you ? Best moment to pay you a visit before work.

– Not really, but I'll soon be walking a bit...the words escaped from his mouth, I mean, after I finish eating my breakfast.

Tim couldn't help but reveal a strange face, staring at the small compote on his tray, something apparently far from looking delicious.

– Standing on your feet again ? _Nice_ , McGee. Can I do anything for you ? You need a ride on the grass, maybe ? he tried showing a smile.

Tim's face briefly turned paler, although he didn't really realize it himself, and he tried not to look too weird, while speaking.

– Actually, that's...that's pretty nice of you, Tony, but I...I need to be accompanied by a nurse, for now. Maybe some other time ?

Tony nodded and didn't try overthinking his teammate's answer, only briefly staring at his watch, wondering if he could stay some more.

– Well, he begun smiling again, looks like I still have some ti...

– I think I would like to stay alone, if you don't mind, Tim unexpectedly interrupted him. _I'm sorry_ , he tried to justify, but I'm...I'm pretty tired, actually.

Tony froze for a second, before taking a deep look at him.  
Well, if there was something wrong with him, he was not showing it at all...and truth was that he _did_ look quite exhausted.  
Yes, he thought, it had definitely been a long week.

– Okay, then. Well...I guess I'm gonna go to work, now. If I don't want to be killed by Gibbs, if you know what I mean, he tried teasing him a bit.

– Thank you for coming, Tony.

– My pleasure, probie. _Anytime._

...Tony slowly went out of the room, taking a last look at the other agent on the bed, wondering how long would McGee need to get over it...  
Hopefully, he would be stronger than them all, but he needed some time. The last few weeks had been completely crazy for him, and well...you were not waking up one day, fresh and clean, especially after a heart attack...  
He was about to leave the corridor when the nurse they had all been used to see taking care of Tim suddenly approached that same space he had just left.

– Ah, hello, Agent Dinozzo...am I right with the name ? she hesitated and smiled.

– _Perfectly_ , he smiled back at her.

– Have you just been visiting your friend ?

– _I did_ , Tony gently spoke. Actually, he just told me that he was about to walk for a little while, I am happy that...

– So you convinced him to go out with you ? she happily revealed her teeth, ready to give to Tony the blanket she had kept between her hands. This is great that he can count on good people to help him go through that.

Tony suddenly froze for a second or two, although the nurse didn't seem to notice anything, before finally slowly pushing the fabric away, inviting the woman to keep it.

– Actually, I... _ah_ , that's too bad, he briefly chuckled, but my boss just called me and I'm already late, so...but thank you. _I'll.._.he begun pointing a thumb in the exit's direction, I'll come back as soon as I can, alright ? Please do take care of him.

– This is something that I can do, Agent Dinozzo, she smiled, watching him strangely leave...  
– – – – – – – –

– Here you go, Agent McGee...the woman nicely said, softly putting a palm onto his chest, slowly walking next to him.

– You can call me Tim, he sincerely smiled, trying to get rid of that visible weakness all over his face and body, his eyes nicely blinded by the rising sun in the park area.

– Alright, Tim, she smiled back at him, do you want to keep walking or would you like to sit down and have a little break ?

– Well, I'm not proud to say it, but I guess I wouldn't mind following your second option, _at least_ , for the moment...he grinned. Would you mind giving me a minute, Mrs...

Tim stopped and bitterly realized that he didn't know her name.

– _I'm..._ I' very sorry, I...

– You can even have two if you want, Tim, I will not be far anyway. And you can call me Liza. Do not worry too much about my name, you've been pretty busy trying to survive to remember it, she sounded a little amused, leaving Tim, in the end, with his thoughts on a bench.

He slowly stared at the blue sky and at the walls all around him... The hospital had some great natural space for all the patients in here, but the simple sight of these walls over there was making him feel nervous. Or _sad_. Yes, 'sad' was definitely the good word.  
He sighed and take a new look at the limited landscape...  
He knew he would be there, at least, for the next few days, and if everything was alright, he would leave that large and still so small building, in order to go home... But what would be waiting for him, there ? Would he truly appreciate spending hours alone, to finally go back to work after some time, only working on desk duty, feeling frustrated by his days as he would face the pity in their eyes...? He would even need time to regain physical strength, if not psychological one...  
So what was left of him exactly, then ? Would he be ready anyway to keep working when life seemed to be so dangerous for him ? He had been facing these things for so long, and now death had been so close...people were not lying, saying that almost reaching darkness was completely changing a man...  
He rubbed his face with despair, forgetting for a minute everything around him, not knowing either what time it could be.

– _Agent McGee ?_ Liza's voice interrupted his thoughts. I mean...Tim, are you ready to go ? It seems enough for today, we shouldn't be pushing you too hard at once...

...When Tim sat on his bed again, exhausted by the small effort he had just been doing earlier, the nurse leaving after checking his pulse and reflexes again, he finally grabbed the piece of paper he had asked to be left on the cupboard, grabbing, as well, a pen between fingers...  
They didn't need to see it now. But how _ironic_ it was...surviving to a heart attack, to end up like this.  
He begun writing and silently read his own words, taking a last look at the small window...

' _I'm sorry'._


	22. Leaving this world

Tim thought back of that first day he had truly woken up, and of how slow, and how fast at the same time, that morning had been going on...if he had thought he might have changed his plans in between, they were finally the same. Now the only question what _how_ to actually leave.

\- _Prescott turned completely mute after he heard about who was responsible for his son's death. And now we are completely struggling to figure out who has to be accused...Prescott, Manners...you know we just want them both to go to Hell and never come back, but it's more complicated than that... Linkers is gonna get some troubles as well, but it seems like he's mostly gonna be judged separately. His lawyer said his client getting involved with Prescott doesn't make a connexion with any of the murders... Sorry, McGee, maybe you don't want to talk about it..._

Tony's voice resonated in his ears like a distant memory, Tim perfectly remembering his teammate keeping him updated that other day, although he was not in a mood for listening. So he had simply nodded, and this, from time to time, tired to see them all, tired to hear them all...  
He didn't want to talk about it. He had reluctantly written his reports every time he had felt strong enough doing so, and if he was lucky enough, he wouldn't need to testify...well, he guessed, or _hoped_ , that they were taking care of this already.  
Tim took a deep breath and tried processing the informations...  
Too many lives broken...broken for _nothing._

\- _As soon as you're out of here, I'll make you the best hot chocolate ever, Timmy, I swear, you have no idea how good it is..._

Tim slightly shook his head at the light memory of Abby speaking, a bit confused...  
He had never asked to talk to them...he just guessed they might have wanted doing so at some point.  
Ziva and Jimmy had come once more as well, Ducky too...Tim briefly chuckled, picturing him in the room. He had almost driven Liza crazy, always insisting for checking his pulse again, as if he was too scared he might disappear...  
 _Disappearing._ It didn't seem _that_ scary anymore.

- _...ready to go, McGee ?_ the voice suddenly asked near the door, the NCIS Agent finally leaving his thoughts, facing reality again...

Tim took a look at the one who had been coming to pick him up, then at the window in the room...  
He still had that paper hidden somewhere, and his decision in mind.

\- I'm coming, he weakly smiled, about to grab his bag, although he was feeling better than before.

 _Well, not that it really mattered anyway..._  
He slowly sat down and left his bed in the end, politely refusing the help that was offered to him.

\- ...so what are your plans for tonight ? the conversation continued in the vehicle.

Tim briefly stared at the landscape through the windshield of the car, thinking...

\- Sleeping.

\- Seems like a good plan, so far... Do you want me to stay over ?

\- No, Ziva, he grinned, I'm good, I think I can fall asleep by myself.

\- _You're the boss..._

Ziva kept driving and finally turned in another street, Tim then strangely staring at the road, wondering...

\- Where are we going, Ziva ?

\- Sorry, McGee, it'll only be for a day or two...they still needed to take a look at the building, for further investigations, and to talk to the two security guards. Yeah, that is pretty much like in movies, before trials, you know, coming back on the crime scene with the people involved, and...

She stopped and realized how bad her timing was.  
' _Too early, Ziva_ ' she thought. _'Too early_ '.  
Well, at least none of the security guards had been poisoned to death...no, they'd only been asleep for a little while.

– We just want to have all the elements, McGee, so that the army of lawyers at NCIS, here for our different criminals, will not free our men too soon.

But Tim didn't bother answering, so she quickly cleared her throat and tried focusing on the road again.

\- Didn't Gibbs tell you that you would be put in a hotel ? she tried changing the subject.

\- I guess he must have forgotten...

\- I'm sure he was about to tell you. _Alright_ , here we are, Mcgee. You see ? Not far from the hospital, therefore you didn't have to endure a very long trip.

Tim managed showing some kind of a grimace, knowing that this wasn't the real excuse for that, knowing they were feeling safer, somehow, to know that he could go back to that building as soon as possible if he was having another heart attack...

\- _Sure_ , he simply reacted. You're right. That's pratical.

Ziva smiled and opened the door of the car, walking outside, about to open his own...  
Tim sighed and powerlessly watched her do, letting her pull the handle. He was too tired to protest anyway.

' _Yes, McGee, this is just the beginning...they'll never treat you normally again_ ' he sadly thought.

-...so you have everything in here, well, all which is necessary, at least... Did the hospital give you back your wallet ? It's been pretty messy, she sounded amused, we all kind of managed filling your documents, but... I never really understood this American system, in my country, we just do...

Tim briefly palpated his trousers' pockets, not especially listening to her words.

\- They did.

\- Great. _So..._ she continued, you have a few clothes in there, hygiene products in the bathroom, and...

\- _That's not all ?_ Tim gently asked, although it was mostly because that discussion was turning boring.

\- We thought you would keep it safer if it was here for the moment. And as much as I do not understand your passion for writing, McGee, I do believe that this thing is meaning something for you.

Tim watched Ziva pointing a finger at a desk, finally noticing his typewriter in the corner.

\- Thank you...Ziva.

\- My pleasure, McGee.

Tim softly rubbed his neck and tried analyzing the place, silently trying to figure out how being in a hotel was now making him feel...it was definitely different from a hospital room, but still...he didn't feel like he was home.

\- _So how..._ how is work at NCIS ? he dared asking.

\- Quite boring, McGee, to be honest, but we are still extremely busy with the case, and all its details to work on, in order to move on...I can feel it's gonna be a very long day, today...she sighed, _and night._

Well, that was an answer...yes, in fact, she could not have been more _evasive...  
_ Tim gave up and only nodded in return, finally slowly approaching the bed, hoping the signal would be understood...and it apparently worked.

\- _Well_ , McGee, Ziva continued, I think 'm gonna let you rest. Do you need anything before I go ?

\- I'm good, thank you. And thank you for the ride.

\- Alright, I see you tomorrow, then.

Tim didn't say anything else and only watched her leave the room, as expected, quickly waving a hand in her direction, in order to say goodbye...  
Yes, he didn't like the fact that he was lying to her, but he didn't feel either like answering her greeting when there was absolutely no sense doing it...

Yes, after all, tomorrow, whether she might be coming or not...he wouldn't be part of this world anymore.


	23. The end of Tim McGee

Tim waited for Ziva to have left the hotel room to finally stand up from his bed, directly heading to the bathroom. He could see that he had made some physical improvements since that very awful day, but he was still feeling extremely weak. From time to time, he was even feeling a bit better, that was true, but every end of the day was the sign of an extreme tiredness, as if a truck had simply decided to run into him in the middle of the street...  
He watched his face in the mirror and noticed how pale and thin his facial traits were.

– _How did this even happen..._ he whispered to himself, his own reflection asking him the same question from its other side...

Tim sighed and focused on his breathing. He knew he needed to be patient. Everyone was different after such a trauma, but that was some kind of a universal rule : _healing needed time.._.in so many ways. He splashed some water on his face and uselessly watched the drops slowly slide along it, his eyes too dry to cry by themselves, his mind too full of tiring thoughts...  
 _He hadn't be ready for that._  
Yes, he knew deep down that no one could have ever been ready for such a terrible adventure, but that wasn't helping him at all.  
Maybe was he too broken to care about the others, maybe, for once, he was only focusing on himself and his pain...  
He exhaled with difficulty and raised again that head that seemed to be so heavy to carry, his arms and legs already struggling to keep him straight...  
He walked back in the room's direction, eyes on the large bag they must have had taken from his apartment, still looking for a way to disappear.  
He didn't want to be hurt anymore, he didn't want to face any more dangers...he needed to end all of this in order to stop the pain.  
So he started diving a hand inside his bag, slowly grabbing it and placing it onto the bed, his head turning a bit dizzier than before, when his phone suddenly rang.  
McGee slightly moved his fingers inside that same bag, feeling the item in a corner of it...he stared at it with hesitation, wondering if he should answer.

– Hey, Abbs ? he finally pronounced after a few rings, figuring that he shouldn't be avoiding calls if he needed to avoid suspicious theories, especially coming from someone as worried for him as Abby.

– _Hi, Timmy !_ she almost yelled on the other side, Tim briefly taking the phone away from his ear, revealing a grimace of surprise. _I heard that you had just left the hospital ! What are you up to ?_

– For now ? he tried to smile. Sleeping, for a while.

– _Any chance I can visit you tonight ? Timmy ?_ she added as the NCIS Agent remained silent for a dozen of seconds, repeating his name a second time.

Tim seemed to be thinking about it for a moment...  
Yes, there was a very few chances for the two women to meet, but a lot more for Abby to suspect anything if he was simply saying no.

– Actually, Ziva has already planned to come tonight, but some other time, Abby. I am not very good at seeing a lot of people at once, for now.

– _Alright, Tim_ , she sounded disappointed but committed to respect his choice. _What about tomorrow, then ? I might even finish earlier._

– _Sure_ , Abby, the words strangely escaped from his mouth. Tomorrow is fine.

 _And here was another lie...  
_ Tim tried not thinking too much about it and kept silently discovering what had really been put in his bag, realizing in the end what no one had probably noticed while gathering his things...  
Tim let Abby speak and monopolize the conversation, a palm softly stroking the cover of what he had once forgotten in that other corner...he reread the name of _Deep Six_ and suddenly sadly chuckled. So much money he had earned for his writing talents, and so less he had actually ever spent.  
His life was at NCIS, he had never really been taking long holidays, nor fancied anything in particular...  
' _Too busy fighting the crime and risking my life, I guess_ ' he thought, Abby's voice suddenly stopping.  
How could she have heard any word what was currently hidden in his mind ?

– _Earth to Tim, hello ?_

– Sorry Abby...what were you saying ?

– _I was asking if you were still up for that chocolate I told you about when I visited you ?_ she repeated her question, a bit angrily at first, before smiling again.

– Of course, Abby, why not when I feel a bit better, he almost instantly answered, now desperately rolling his eyes in that small hotel room, aware of his umpteenth lie of the day, finally feeling that nervousness taking control of his whole self...

 _Now he was being more conscious of it. Now he knew he was really leaving._  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

– Are we gonna talk about it ?

– Talk about what, Tony ? Ziva asked from behind her desk, before realizing he was not speaking to her.

Gibbs approached Tony in a corner of the bullpen, usual coffee between hands, furrowing both his brows.

– What's wrong, Dinozzo ? Talking about what ?

– _Uh..._ about you, not visiting McGee ? Tony felt the irony coming out of his mouth. He didn't tell me anything about it, but I'm pretty sure I haven't seen you around that hospital room, excepting the day he woke up.

– How can you tell if I was here or not ? he neutrally asked. Are you following me ? Jethro slightly shook his head.

– Just call it a feeling, Tony challenged him a bit. Oh come on, Gibbs, are we really gonna play this game ?

– I don't know, are we, Dinozzo ?

– You're just saving time, admit it...Tony clenched a fist. _Listen..._ he sighed and walked a step forward, I do not wish to fight, nor anything of that kind, Gibbs, I just...I just do not understand.

But Jethro only took a sip of his coffee before heading to his own working area, sitting behind his usual piece of furniture, grabbing his glasses...he finally exhaled and took a quick look at his agent.

– I do not think he really wants to see me, alright ? He probably thinks I tried taking him away from the case, and...

– But...can't you two just talk about it ? Tony tried to smile.

– He's mad at me because I tried to fire him, Dinozzo. And you should definitely go back to work if you do not want the same thing to happen to you.

And that was all Gibbs would say for the next two hours, his hand grabbing again his cup of coffee, his eyes willing to escape from that unwanted conversation, now focused on that computer he had never understood...  
Ziva immediately begun typing a few notes again, as if some new energy had suddenly taken control of her, not even trying to meet Tony's preoccupied gaze...

– _Gibbs..._ Tony politely tried continuing speaking, truly surprised to see that _he_ was, this time, the one trying to be mature.

But he only met the blue eyes for a second or two, and he knew there was nothing else to do, then...at least, for the moment...  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

– _Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs !_ Abby's pair of platforms suddenly begun running in the bullpen, a circular red box between the woman's hands. Is Ziva already gone ?

– I'm here, Abby, Ziva answered before Jethro, grabbing her coat and backpack with her.

– Oh my god, were you leaving ? she seemed to be struggling with her breathing. So good I...she pressed a palm onto on hips, so good I caught you just in time ! _Oh no_ , she suddenly realized her mistake, I hope I didn't break my cookies ! I just made them in the lab, they smell amazing !

– Are they...for me ? Ziva suspiciously asked, eyes focusing on the red box, although it seemed very strange for Abby to give her such a present.

They were not enemies or anything, but...well, they'd never been the best friends ever either.

– _Uh..._ I mean, you can take one, but...Abby tried not to be rude, they're for Timmy. I know I could have waited for tomorrow to make them and bring them, but, I don't know ! I just felt like it was the right moment to do this.

Ziva briefly smiled as she finally caught the box of cookies, carefully putting it inside her bag.

– No problem at all, Abby, I'll bring them in the morning.

– _Wait, what ?_ But...why waiting for tomorrow to give them to Tim if you are about to visit him now anyway ?

Gibbs didn't say a word but finally took a look at both women, silently raising his head in their direction.  
Ziva sighed but tried not to sound too rude.

– Well, I'm sorry Abby, but...it has never been mentioned that I would go this evening. In fact, I _did_ propose it to McGee, but he told me that he needed some rest, so I decided to respect his privacy for tonight.

– _But why did..._

Both woman suddenly felt a paper ball onto their back, perfectly hearing Tony's heavy sight from behind his desk.

– David, give me the box. You know what ? _I_ 'll go. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't want to see any of you guys fighting like children, anyway.

Tony didn't even try to look at Gibbs, frustration and nervousness after such a day still tightening his throat.  
He'd still enjoy being outside for a little while. Yes, Tim hadn't been the only one in need of air, recently...  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

...Tony was rereading the note, scarily staring at the floor of the hotel room, the words ' _I'm sorry_ ' repeatedly resonating inside his brain...  
He couldn't...there...no, there was just no words to express that awful situation.

– _Did you find something, Dinozzo ?_

– Yeah, he dryly answered. McGee let his phone on that carpet, and his car is outside. He can be anywhere now.

– We're gonna find him, Tony, Ziva said as she joined the duet, her blue NCIS cap on top of her head.

Tony sighed and let the angriness take a sweet control of his face, although he was _really_ trying to control himself.

– _What's wrong, Dinozzo..._

– This is all your fault, Gibbs...! he finally almost whispered, his eyes looking around for any other clue.

– You need someone to put the blame on, Dinozzo ? _Go for it_ , Jethro softly raised a palm, trying to hide his numerous worries.

– Alright, Gibbs, Tony anxiously begun moving, give me some time, then, maybe in a day or two, when things will be a little less recent, I'll reconsider my reactions, but do not dare telling me that you have _absolutely_ nothing to do with that.

– I cannot control people's reactions, Tony, I do not have that power...

– Oh _yes_ , you do, Tony interrupted him this time, speaking a bit louder than before. And even if McGee is not here right now to explain us everything about the way he feels, you can be sure that if I hear anyhow that he is in danger, or even only a danger for himself, I'll do anything to avenge him !

Gibbs watched his agent angrily leave their spot, nervously taking off his cap, desperately stroking his hair...  
He tried himself to focus again on that strange new case and simply took a look at the phone, still on the floor, wondering if he'd find anything in order to help them bring back McGee... Abby would be devastated and he knew it.  
What would he say to her when he had himself no idea of what to say ?

– _Oh, what have you done to yourself, Tim..._ he almost inaudibly pronounced, worried eyes now facing the phone he had just grabbed.  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

( _Seattle, one day later..._ )

An elegant man grabbed a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet, politely staring at the barman in front of him.

– One more, please.

– Yes, sir.

– Is the place always that quiet ? he asked after a pause.

– Mondays and Wednesdays aren't usually the best days of the week, but it gets really crowded during weekends.

– That's good to know, the man smiled.

– So ? the boss of the place begun cleaning a bit. Are you here for business ? Holidays, maybe ?

– I don't know yet. I guess it will depend if I enjoy the city.

– You'll enjoy it for sure, believe me. What are you doing for a living ?

The man drank a last sip of his old drink, slightly smiling again to the barman.

– I'm a writer.

– A writer ? the barman turned curiouser than before. Well, that's impressive. Don't forget to tell me your name before you go, I don't think I've ever talked to any writer in my entire life.

The opposite man's hand just left his glass for a second and naturally shook the other one in front of him, truly appreciating the moment, not thinking about anything else, for once...there couldn't be more safer place in the world at that very moment, and that was such an incredible moment.

– Ever heard of _Deep Six_ ? he finally gently grinned. My name is Thom. Thom E. Gemcity.  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

 _TO BE CONTINUED..._


End file.
